


Days of the Moon

by Maharetchan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Drug Use, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Non-Graphic Violence, Pandemics, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 70,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maharetchan/pseuds/Maharetchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a broken world, Dean and Sam Winchester are trying to reach Bobby, the only family they have left after their father's death.<br/>When the Impala breaks down, they end up stuck in a small town, but there they meet new people who could change their lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The beads of time pass slow

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. One day, after I watched the episode 5x04, I told myself: "I want to write something about 2014!Castiel" and so this fanfiction was born. I made it my 2012 Nanowrimo project and spent three months writing and editing it. It went through a lot of changes and I don't know if I'm 100% satisfied by the way this turned out, but this is the biggest project I ever started and finished. Just for this reason, I'm proud of it.  
> 2\. The title of the chapter comes from the song "The Battle of Evermore" by Led Zeppelin.  
> 3\. I think I should thank all the people that supported me while I was writing, re-reading and editing this: thanks a lot, from the bottom of my heart. I know I've been a butt sometimes and annoyed people so fucking much about it, but you all endured it and helped me and for this I'll love you forever. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  
> 4\. My first language is not English. A friend of mine checked the grammar for me, so the remaining mistake are all mines. I hope this will not stop you from still reading and liking this story.  
> 5\. I love comments!

_“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,  
Tears from the depth of some divine despair  
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,  
In looking on the happy autumn fields,  
And thinking of the days that are no more.”_  
 **Lord Alfred Tennyson – Tears, Idle Tears**

**Chapter One  
The beads of time pass slow **

The sky is so brightly blue it almost hurts to look at it and its flashing, stunning color makes the road look flatly gray in return, brings out the red and the green of the bushes on its sides, like there's a big flashlight pointed on them.  
  
The only sounds are the radio vomiting out the familiar notes of “In my time of dying” and the engine of the Impala, that is making a menacing and labored noise again.  
  
Dean taps on the steering wheel in time with the music, trying to ignore it, to keep his mind away from the thought that something very, very bad is about to happen: he looks around but there's nothing to see, because the road is as empty as a desert, no cars, no houses, not one thing to focus on.  
  
Just the road, the bushes and the blinding blue sky.  
  
It has been more than two hours since they passed through the last town, where they couldn't even tell if someone was still living there or not, because everything was so quiet, empty and desolated that they decided to just keep driving, even though they needed food and water: they didn't know what could be lurking behind the windows of the silent buildings that surrounded them.  
  
These days not even a bright, sunny morning could guarantee safety.  
  
"We are in the middle of the fucking nowhere! God, we haven't met another car in hours, this is fucking starting to freak me out."  
  
Sam turns to face him, his face incredibly emotionless: he's tired as fuck, Dean can tell from the way his eyes look numb and indifferent to everything, from the way he barely moves when he talks to him.  
  
"I'm surprised you're still surprised about it. It has been like this basically since day one!"  
  
"I know, I know, dammit. Can you please at least check the damn map again? We need to find a place to stop as soon as we can, I think something is wrong with the car. Just what we need right now, fuck it."  
  
"I thought you had fixed it! You said everything was ok now."  
  
"Yeah, me too, but apparently I didn't, I'm not a mechanic, sue me! Come on, Sam, do something useful instead of bitching like a little girl as usual."  
  
Sam falls silent again for a few minutes and Dean steals a few glances at him: he looks thinner and older than he was before they decided to start this probably useless trip, his hair are getting too long, his clothes are dusty and overused and there's a sort of vacancy in his eyes that Dean fears more than everything else.  
  
"You can be on the road your whole life and be just fine, not feeling it at all, to the point where it seems to the most natural thing ever.  
  
But then you settle down, you buy a nice house, marry a good girl, have kids: you think you're done with that life. You get used to it, to the normal life, to the comforts... that's when the road gets you, when it crushes you if you ever start driving again, it doesn't matter if you have to or want to.  
  
It drains you, Dean, it takes everything away from you and leaves you broken and empty. So if you wanna stop, just stop forever or keep moving until you die on that fucking road. It's the only way to survive it."  
  
That's what his dad told him after Sammy left, his eyes bloodshot and angry, his voice rough and disappointed; Dean remembers feeling guilty even though he wasn't the one to blame: he was still there, with him, he was the good son.  
  
It was Sammy the one who left, the one who gave up on them, on their life, on the family business.  
  
Dean feels a stab of pain at the thought of John, sees his face again in his mind, can hear his voice as clear as if he was there with him and it takes all his willpower to make himself stop doing that, to take his mind away from those thoughts and focus on the present again.  
  
"So? I didn't know reading a damn map could take so fucking long for a genius like you!"  
  
He regrets those words and the angry sound they have as soon as they leave his lips; the pissed look on Sam's face just makes him feel worse than he already does.  
  
Makes him want to punch things, scream and just let out all the bottled anger he carries within himself.  
  
"There should be a town called Spring Creek, we should reach it in... an hour or so I think."  
  
"“Should”? “I think”? You're sure or you're not, Sammy, I can't take all this “maybe”, “I think” crap anymore!"  
  
"It's on the map, but who knows if it still exist or if people still live there. After what happened, it could be another ghost town like the one we just passed or worse. I'm just trying to be realistic here, Dean. Calm the fuck down, ok?"  
  
Dean doesn't reply, because he knows Sam is right: after the Killer Flu, lots and lots of towns were abandoned, becoming basically big graveyards; people tried to stick together as much as they could and at the same time tried to leave the past behind, he can understand that.  
  
If your whole family dies, but you don't, would you want to stay when it happened?  
  
So that's how it is now: a government that barely gives a shit about anything that isn't trying to stay afloat in this sea of shit, small, scattered communities and ghost cities.  
  
"Well, I really hope this one is still there, cause I really don't like this noise Baby is doing."  
  
"Yeah, me neither. Plus we need supplies, some sleep and possibly a bath, I can't stand your smell anymore, man!"  
  
They look at each other for a moment: then Sam quietly laughs and Dean follows, his outburst forgotten for the moment: even the zombie look leaves his brother's face and Sammy, the old Sammy, comes back.  
  
"Oh fuck it, let's put something else on."  
  
"Dude, you love “Kashmir”!"  
  
"I do, but “Kashmir” needs the right state of mind to be fully appreciated ok, and this is not its time. Ah, this'll work!"  
  
“Black dog” starts playing and Sam laugh when Dean starts singing, imitating Plant's voice.  
  
It feels good to be still able to see his brother smile like he means it, because Dean isn't sure he can do that anymore.

 

Spring Creek still exists, all dusty streets, a few decadent houses and a sad countryside look, but it feels alive and is still is a decent shape:it smells of meals getting cooked, of people, smells of a past that seemed to be long gone when they were so far from everything, but that apparently still resists somewhere.  
  
It's half past noon when they park in front of the small gas station: there's no one around, but Dean can feel they're being watched behind the apparently blind eyes of the houses around them.  
  
A man comes out from one and stands on his porch staring at them for a moment, before turning his back and going back inside, without saying a single word to the brothers or before they have any chance of talking to him.  
  
"Friendly, the people around here."  
  
"Can you blame them? I'd be scared shitless of any stranger coming to my town if I were them."  
  
"Yeah, you're right. Come on, let's go."  
  
The small shop is closed and a tiny sign says: “Be right back!”.  
  
So they wait, moving around restlessly under the merciless sun, drinking what is left of their last two bottles of water and eating something in silence: sometimes Sam looks at him like he wants to talk, but he never does, because he doesn't know what to say or can't find the right words to let what's eating him out.  
  
But Dean knows that one day, sooner than later, he will and he'll have to find more lies, more excuses and build more and higher walls to hide behind.  
  
"Damn, how “right back” is that “be right back”?! We have been sitting here for ages..."  
  
"Yeah, I noticed."  
  
"And of course no one gives a rat ass about us! No, they just keep hiding behind their nice doors!"  
  
"Should we go and take a better look at the place?"  
  
"I'm not sure we can do that without getting gunned down cause these people think we may be infected, I say we don't push it."  
  
"You're right, I guess..."  
  
Sam gets up and goes taking another look at the door of the shop, covered is a layer of dusty fliers, while Dean opens the last beer they have left, but stops drinking it after the first sip cause it's hot and tastes like piss: he throws it away and the bottle hits a street lamp, shattering.  
  
"Dude! What the hell?!"  
  
"Sorry, it slipped..."  
  
"Yeah, right, Dean. Calm down ok? And come here, I think I found something."  
  
Peeling through the layers of fliers glued on the shop's door, Sam finds another one that has the same handwriting of the other.  
  
"It says: “If I'm out, you need something and are in a hurry, go knock at the house in front of the shop: knock very, very loud. Cannot guarantee you'll get help, but you can try.” What the..."  
  
"That makes no sense, who lives there? The owner's own Little Red Riding Hood deaf grandma?!"  
  
"Should we go trying?"  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and looks around, resigned.  
  
"It's not like we have a choice!"  
  
The house in front of the shop could benefit of some serious maintenance: the painting is peeling off everywhere, the garden looks more like a small jungle and the stairs make menacing cracking noises at every step.  
  
Sam starts knocking, hard enough to wake up the whole town and possibly take the door down, but no one comes or even answers.  
  
"This places is a fucking mess."  
  
"Yeah, I can see that."  
  
"Hello! Anybody home?"  
  
"Hello! Can you hear us?"  
  
"There's no one here, man. We should go knock at one of those pretty houses, not here at this rotting place!"  
  
But Sam keeps knocking and calling, like he's trying to prove something to Dean and to himself, like making whoever lives in that damn place answer is his true life mission and finally, after at least ten minutes, the door opens.  
  
And the guy that appears in front of them looks even more pitiful than the house.  
  
He's about Dean's age, skinny and almost as tall as he is, with blue eyes peaking and shining under a mess of dark and untamed hair.  
  
He's barefoot and confused: from the look on his face, he was obviously sleeping and judging by the smell of booze that comes from him in a serious hangover.  
  
"Oh dear God, what the hell, man?!"  
  
Sam looks at him and Dean just shrugs: the guy is covering his face with one hand, trying to protect his eyes from the sunlight and at the same time to get a look of them.  
  
"Hey, hi, sorry we bothered you but we found this on the gas station's door, it says to come knocking here if no one was there."  
  
"Oh God, you talk so fast, calm down, dude, ok? Give me a sec, I have the worst headache ever!"  
  
Dean laugh bitterly.  
  
"Yeah, I bet, what did you do? Found a liquor store and drank it?"  
  
The man looks at him and laughs, his whole face coming alive while he does that, making him look younger and different from the broken shell he appears to be right now, a lingering memory of a far away past.  
  
"Nice one, buddy, nice one. Ah, I need some water, be right back."  
  
He turns around without even bothering closing the door and Dean takes it as an invitation to come in: the house is surprisingly clean, something you wouldn’t expect from a guy in that shape, no left overs stashed everywhere, just a couple of empty beer bottles on the coffee table.  
  
"Ah, much better. So, you were saying? And wow! You're tall! And you're not... but I guess you compensate with your good look."  
  
Sam looks confused, but decides to ignore the comment and so does Dean, even though he can feel the man's eyes lingering on him.  
  
"We found this on the gas station's door, it says to come here if no one's there."  
  
The man barely looks at the flayer.  
  
"Oh, I see... Anna must be out, damn, she knows not to do that, I'm not exactly helpful."  
  
"Anna?"  
  
"My... sister, she minds the place, well we both own it, but she does that hard work. I'm Cas."  
  
Sam shakes his hand and Cas smiles at him, then turns to Dean with an even bigger smile; it's friendly in an almost creepy way, but he takes his hand anyway, finding his grip surprisingly strong and firm.  
  
"I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Dean and brother Sam.  
  
The man keeps staring, his eyes shifting between them, like he's expecting something, but is not sure what exactly.  
  
"So? You can help or not?"  
  
Dean is surprised by sound of his voice, harsher and angrier than he wanted it to be; Cas, however, doesn't seem to notice it or if he does he just doesn't show it: his eyes focus on Dean, scanning his face with an amused light in them.  
  
"Right, right. Of course! I'll go get the keys so I can open the place for you. Well, if I can find them."  
  
He starts climbing the stairs but stops midway.  
  
"You're not infected or killer or robbers, right?"  
  
Dean looks at him with an incredulous expression on his face.  
  
"Don't you think it's a little bit late to ask that?!"  
  
"Oh, yeah, probably. But... you're not, right?"  
  
"Of course not!"  
  
Cas nods, satisfied.  
  
"Good, good. Be right back."  
  
And then he disappears up the stairs, leaving the brothers even more confused.  
  
"Wow, that was weird..."  
  
Sam tries to keep his voice down, like he was worried Cas could hear them.  
  
"Yep, I agree, but if he can help us..."  
  
"Yeah, it's not like we have any other option unless this Anna decides to come back right now."  
  
"And with the rest of these people ignoring us, I think he'll have to make due."  
  
"Yeah, he didn't even worry too much about the fact the we could be infected or something worst, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even asked if he hadn't remembered..."  
  
"Guess he's far too gone for that."  
  
Sam quietly chuckles.  
  
"Got them! Let's go..."  
  
The brothers follow Cas outside and Dean notices, with a weird sort of relief, that the man remembered to put shoes on.

 

"So, what are you guys doing in this fair town forgotten by God anyway?"  
  
Cas is leaning against the counter, sipping a beer and looking at them as they go through the shelves of the shop.  
  
"Just passing through, we're trying to reach a friend."  
  
"He lives around here?"  
  
"South Dakota."  
  
"Wow... you have a long way to go!"  
  
Sam nods and smiles lightly at him, turning his attention back to the food on the shelf.  
  
"You have a mechanic here? I think our car needs some fixing."  
  
Cas remains quiet for a moment and Dean finally takes a good look at him: his clothes are washed out and maybe a size or two too big, but they look clean and still in a decent shape, his cheeks are dark with stubble, his hair are far too messy and he has that used look that drinkers and addicts have, but in his eyes there's still a sort of sparkle of life, like the world can still be interesting for him no matter how screwed up it is.  
  
It's the same sparkle that Sammy has, but while his brother seems to be full of it, he can only see a small and pale glimpse in Cas, one that, like a dying star, fights to stay alive even thought the odds are against it.  
  
"My brother Gabriel can have a look at it, I guess."  
  
"He's a mechanic?"  
  
"Not really, he's just good with his hands."  
  
"How many brothers and sisters you have?"  
  
"Oh, more than you can imagine! But they're gone, it's just me, Anna and Gabe now."  
  
Dean lowers his gaze, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.  
  
"Sorry, man."  
  
"Oh, don't worry, it's fine. They're not dead, they're just... gone."  
  
But judging by the look in his eyes, clouded and pained no matter how much he tries to smile and hide it, it's not ok at all and Dean feels bad, because he know how he feels, he has been there.  
  
Hell, he's still there and tries not to think about it, tries to forget the empty hole he feels in his chest since his father died and to pretend that he's fine, that nothing is wrong.  
  
The door suddenly opens and a gorgeous redhead girl, obviously in a hurry, comes in slightly breathless and sweaty.  
  
"What are you doing here? Isn't it far too early for you to be out of your hole?"  
  
"Hello to you too, sister! And I was just helping these two fine gentlemen while you were... well, wherever you were."  
  
The girl who is obviously Anna seems to notice the brothers just then, stares at them for a few seconds and then looks back at her brother.  
  
"You opened the store for them?!"  
  
"You were out. And they knocked very very hard! And you always say I should get more involved in... things. Don't worry, I asked if they were infected before letting them in."  
  
Anna rolls her eyes, but when she looks at the brothers again, she's smiling.  
  
"Hi! I'm Anna, Cas's sister, nice to meet you, guys."  
  
Anna shakes their hands while they introduce and have some basic and uninteresting small talk; Dean can't help but thinking about how different she feels from Cas and that they don't look alike at all: she looks fresh, alive, while he has this haunted look that never leaves, that lurks behind his eyes and in the laziness of his gestures, like even breathing is too much effort for him sometimes.  
  
Dean looks at Sam and wonder if when people look at them, they see the same thing: the sunshine boy and his broken brother.  
  
Sam is already talking to Anna like it's the easiest thing ever, like they have known each other their whole lives, while Dean just watches them in silence, not even trying to join the conversation: Cas is looking at him, all piercing blue eyes and a faint smile on his lips.  
  
"Cas was telling us that your brother Gabriel can take a look at our car, there's something wrong with it and we need to know if it's bad."  
  
"Oh, of course. Gabe should be home right now, right?"  
  
Cas shrugs, while opening his third beer.  
  
"Don't know where else he could be."  
  
"Well, let's go then. I was going to close the place for today anyway."  
  
"Thank you so much, you two have no reason to help us so much, really."  
  
Anna briefly turns to look at Cas.  
  
"Let's just say that helping people is kinda our mission."

 

Gabriel's house is five minutes away from the station, an old place that somehow is still able to maintain its dignity intact no matter how battered it looks.  
  
And the famous Gabriel is just the same: a sarcastic smile on his lips, a look of aristocratic decadence on his face and in the way he moves and talks, like he doesn't care about anything, but still wants to make an impression.  
  
And he does, even with his plain clothes and apparently mundane appearance: you can't help but staring at him.  
  
"Look who comes visiting me: my delicious sister and my surprisingly still alive brother. And you two must be their new butlers, I'm disappointed though, where are the suits?!"  
  
Gabriel lights a cigarette.  
  
"Funny, Gabe. These are Sam and Dean, they need you to take a look at their car."  
  
Gabriel doesn't offer to shake their hands, instead he stares at them, like he's deciding if he's willing to give them the precious gift of his attention or not: Dean fights the impulse to punch him, when his eyes focus on Sam too long he thinks it's decent to.  
  
"Will they pay in nature? I like the tall one, not so much the other, too serious business for my taste. I can leave him to you, Cas."  
  
Anna rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.  
  
"Please, Gabriel?"  
  
The man takes a deep breath and smiles at her.  
  
"How can I resist you, sis, when you ask so nicely? Come on, show me this beast."

 

"You guys wanna go for a town tour?"  
  
Anna is smiling softly, while they're sitting on the stairs of Gabriel's porch, Cas and Dean drinking a beer, Sam and the girl some iced tea while the man works on the car: her eyes focus on Cas, a worried and loving look on her face, a look that the man is obviously doing his best to ignore.  
  
Dean clears his throat and shakes his head.  
  
"No, I'm staying here, can't leave Baby alone."  
  
"Baby?"  
  
Sam rolls his eyes and sights.  
  
"It's the car, she's his one true love. Just... ignore him, Anna. I'd like to take a look at this place."  
  
"Oh, I see, I see. Well, I can't argue with that. Great, let's go then, Sam! Cas, you coming?"  
  
Cas looks at Dean then at Anna, thinks about it for a couple of seconds before shaking his head.  
  
"Nah, I'm staying here, you two go and have fun."  
  
Sam and Anna leave and Dean observes them until they disappear from his sight: then he takes another sip of beer, enjoying the refreshing taste that cools his throat and sends shivers along his back.  
  
"Your sister is very nice."  
  
"Mh, mh, a real angel."  
  
Cas is rolling himself a cigarette, lights it and then takes a deep, long breath, making a sound that is half a sight and half a moan when he breaths the smoke out; it's so weird and almost attractive in a sort of morbid way and the way his face changes expression makes Dean feel uncomfortable, so he takes his eyes off him and focuses on Gabriel with his hands buried in the Impala's engine.  
  
"Dude, is that weed?!"  
  
"Yep, want some?"  
  
"How the hell you manage to find stuff like that these days?!"  
  
Cas chuckles.  
  
"Gabriel knows a lot of people. Who know other people, who apparently can get you pretty much everything you want. But I stick to booze and weed and sometimes painkillers."  
  
Dean laugh humorlessly.  
  
"An healthy diet you have there."  
  
"I know right? Best way to have a long, happy life!"  
  
"Somehow I think I would not like to meet the people your brother knows."  
  
Cas laughs out loud, throwing his head back.  
  
"You really wouldn't."  
  
"Who is your brother, some sort of gangster?"  
  
The man doesn't say anything for a few moments, thinking about the right way to say what's on his mind, almost a serious expression appearing on his face.  
  
"Gabe is... a lot of things. And maybe a gangster is one of the few he isn't. I could tell you exactly everything he is, but first we'd be here for ages and second it'd spoil all the fun and the mystery!"  
  
Dean leaves it alone, understanding better than Cas thinks that he doesn't want to elaborate the question any further, and silence falls between them, only filled by Gabriel's work and by his small radio that is playing The Beatles “Run for your life”.  
  
"I like this song, it's catchy not matter how fucked up the lyrics are, the beat is great."  
  
Cas smokes slowly, enjoying each breath like a convict, a pleased smile on his lips, his head slightly moving following the beat of the song.  
  
"You know, Lennon actually hated this song. He said it was his"least favorite Beatles song" ."  
  
"Really? This makes me like it even more."  
  
"Yeah? Why?"  
  
"Cause Lennon is pompous dick who thinks he's the best songwriter of all time."  
  
Dean looks at him confused for a couple of seconds, examining his face, trying to find that playful look again, but Cas face is actually serious, like he really means what he just said.  
  
Like he knows it's true.  
  
"Dude, you sound like you actually knew Lennon."  
  
Cas turns to face him, suddenly an almost worried expression on his face, like he let slip something he shouldn't have or said something incredibly stupid: he tries to laugh it off, but his laugh has the nervous ring of who tries too hard to make it sound genuine.  
  
"Yeah, I did, yeah? Must be the weed, makes me confused, it has been a while since I last smoked one of these. Of course I didn't know him, he's been dead for a while, right?"  
  
"Last time I checked he was pretty gone."  
  
"Exactly, right. Don't think about it. It was just me being stupid."  
  
Cas starts digging in his pockets and offers him a second joint, a wicked smile on his face.  
  
"Ah man, I really shouldn't..."  
  
"I'm not telling Sam, if you're not telling Anna."  
  
"What about Gabe there?"  
  
"Ignore him, he won't talk. So, you want?"  
  
Dean takes the joint and rolls it between its fingers for a while.  
  
"How do I know you're not poisoning me or something? You could be some kind of freak for what I know."  
  
"I guess you'll have to trust me..."  
  
"Man, I met you like... two hours ago at most!"  
  
Cas laughs again, handing him his lighter.  
  
"Come on, Dean, take a chance."  
  
Dean looks at him for a couple of seconds, thinking about it, but in the end he returns it to Cas.  
  
"Nah, I'll pass. I need to stay focused and. But I wouldn't say no to a cigarette, if you have one."  
  
Cas shrugs and digs a battered and old package out of his pocket, handing one to Dean.  
  
"You go on being responsible, while I sink into the depth of decadence!"  
  
"You're one funny guy, Cas..."  
  
The man smiles at him.  
  
"Yeah, it's part of my charm..."  
  
Silence falls again between them after that, both lost and focused on their thoughts and unable to find anything else to say.  
  
So they just keep smoking without saying a word.

 

"So, buddy, I think we have a class A problem here."  
  
Gabriel emerges from the deeps of the Impala after an hour; Sam and Anna aren't back yet and Dean feels the tiredness and the lack of proper rest starting to kick in, after two beers, some food and smoking with Cas, but forces himself up and approaches him, followed by Cas, who is rubbing his eyes like he's about to fall asleep too, even though he's been up for barely a few hours.  
  
"What's wrong with it?"  
  
"The head gasket is broken, you need a new one. The good thing is: I can fix it. The bad is that I don't have a replacement for this model so, in the end, I can't help. But I can tell you this: if you decide to just drive off into the sunset in these conditions, your car will eventually die, leaving you and your charming little brother in the middle of nowhere to die."  
  
Dean stares at him blankly, trying to grasp the meaning of what the man is telling him, to overcome the shock that seems to have reduced him to a gaping mess: the worst part of it is the little smile that Gabriel has on his lips, like he's happy about the whole thing.  
  
"Wow, Gabe, way to be delicate! The poor thing here is on the verge of a stroke."  
  
Gabriel just shrugs it off, making it clear he doesn't care and Dean wants to punch him so hard to wipe that little smirk on his lips away from his face with his fists: before he does anything, Cas puts an hand on his shoulder and that touch seems to calm him down a little bit, even though the rage, the shock and the confusion are still making his blood burn like fire in his veins.  
  
"Hey Dean, you ok?"  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Sam and Anna are back and when his brother sees the look on his face, he rushes at his side, possibly more worried about what he could do than about what happened or about how he feels.  
  
"So? What's going on?"  
  
"Oh, nothing, Sam. I was just explaining to your brother that your car is fucked. Pity, such a beautiful thing..."  
  
"What? Are you sure?!"  
  
Gabriel wipes his hands with a towel and takes a deep breath.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure, but if you don't believe me, no one stops you from driving off and trying to find a real mechanic, I guess. But don't expect me to mourn your stupid asses when you two turn out dead somewhere."  
  
"Shut up, you bastard."  
  
"You better calm down, big boy."  
  
"Let's all calm down, ok? This solves nothing and certainly is not going to fix the car!"  
  
Sam nods at Anna and is looking at Dean like he's scared he might just lose it and lash out at Gabriel; he notices that Cas hand is still on his shoulder and turn to face him, finding his deep, blue eyes staring at him.  
  
Cas takes his hand off and backs away from him, like being caught staring is making him feeling suddenly self conscious.  
  
"Gabe, can't you do something to help them?"  
  
"I don't get why you two are putting so much effort in helping these two strangers! Why should I do that? Why should I care?"  
  
Anna becomes suddenly serious, almost menacing.  
  
"Because helping people is right, Gabriel, because that's... what we are supposed to do."  
  
They stare at each other, a battle of looks that only ends when Gabriel lowers his eyes and sights.  
  
"I guess I could make a couple of calls tomorrow and see if someone I know can get a hold on the piece you need."  
  
"Tomorrow?! Why not tonight?!"  
  
Dean's voice comes out aggressive and angry, no matter how much he tries to calm down.  
  
"Just... just ignore him, Gabriel, ok? Thank you so much, we appreciate it."  
  
Gabriel smiles a bit at Sam and nods, not even throwing one look at Dean.  
  
"Yeah, you're welcome, I guess. I'm going to go take a shower now, you can leave the car here. See ya."  
  
The man leaves and the four of them stand there looking at each other.  
  
"Well, I guess we'll have to find a place for the night. Is there a motel or something like that? We don't have much money, but we can still pay..."  
  
"You two can stay over at Cas's place tonight, he has a couple of spare bedrooms. And no need to pay, really."  
  
Sam thanks Anna and then looks at him; Dean just shrugs, feeling drained and tired by the events of the day: right now, even an half burnt barn would sound good as long as he can rest.  
  
"Yeah, why not?"

 

Cas doesn't help them settling in his house, but follows them around like a lost puppy, watching them with an almost vacant look on his face: the place is big enough to easily fit a large family, but only a few rooms are used, the others, including the two the brother are going to occupy, have the dusty smell of neglect and abandonment; they're actually clean, like the rest of the house, but they feel dull and empty.  
  
The walls have been stripped of anything that could be even remotely personal and painted in neutral, boring colors, even though Dean's room still preserves traces of the old wallpaper: it was colorful and bright, possibly the room of a child and he can't help wondering what happened to him or her.  
  
"It was already like this when I moved in, I didn't really touch anything, just repainted the walls. Well, I didn't, I asked someone to."  
  
Dean nods and stands in the middle of the room, feeling suddenly self conscious and slightly uneasy, thoughts of gruesome and haunting memories those rooms could be hiding flooding his mind"  
  
"How long have you been living here?"  
  
Cas sits on the bed while Dean empties his bag and puts his clothes in the big drawer.  
  
"About five months, I think."  
  
"Why here?"  
  
"Well, when we arrived... they weren't happy at first, the people here, they were suspicious, so we took this place: it was empty, big enough, far from the rest of the town, but not isolated. In the end they started to like us I guess or at least Anna, she is good at making people like her. They allowed us to stay, Anna got her own place, Gabe the same, but I liked it here, this house, so I stayed. Anna said it was probably too big for me, but I don't really care, I like the silence, the peace. I like staying out of the spotlight as much as I can."  
  
"And who cleans it?"  
  
Cas looks almost offended by the question.  
  
"May sound impossible, but I'm not completely useless, you know? I can keep an house cleaning when it's needed!"  
  
Dean looks at him skeptically until the other starts to laugh softly.  
  
"Just kidding, of course I can't do it, a very nice lady comes twice a week."  
  
"An housekeeper in times like these, incredible."  
  
"In times like these, people would do pretty much everything for some extra money."  
  
"And where you get yours?"  
  
That wicked look returns on Cas face.  
  
"Secret! You can't really expect me to tell you everything, can you? By the way, the bathroom is the last door on the left, in case you wanna take a shower, I'll put clean towels in there for you and your brother."  
  
Before Cas leave the room, Dean stops him.  
  
"Hey, why you doing this? You don't even know us."  
  
Cas just smiles.  
  
"You mean helping you guys?"  
  
"Yeah, I mean... we could be ex"con or thieves or serial killers for all you know... We could murder you in your sleep tonight and be gone before they find your body..."  
  
"Wow, would you really do that?"  
  
The man is still smiling, running his hand through his hair.  
  
"No, of course not, but, you know, we could! So why?"  
  
"And why not?"  
  
Dean is not used to kindness, find it hard to trust somebody so quickly, but apparently for Cas is easy and immediate, something he does without even thinking about it, making him feel at the same time good and then bad about himself.

 

Anna makes them dinner, but doesn't stay over with them, disappearing as soon as she's done cooking.  
  
"I wish I could stay with you guys, but I already had plans, I'm sorry!"  
  
"Don't worry, it's fine, we get it."  
  
Sam looks already at ease, almost happy to be there and Dean has to admit that he looks like he belongs in that house, like he's being here his whole life: he has this way of getting used to everything and to fit in so quickly, he makes Dean wonder why he can't do it, what's wrong with him.  
  
"Be nice to them, keep them company, ok?"  
  
"What am I, their babysitter? I'm sure they're tired of me."  
  
Anna rolls her eyes.  
  
"Cas, come on, try at least!"  
  
But Cas doesn't really try: he doesn't eat much, playing with his food for a while before giving up and leaving his share to the brothers: then closes himself in a melancholic silence, curled on the couch with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a pack of cigarettes, regular ones, in the other.  
  
Sam tries to talk to him, but he barely answers: the day is over and as soon as the light disappears, what was left of Cas's vitality seems to leave with it; he looks numb, indifferent to everything and everyone around him, locked somewhere where no one can touch him.  
  
Dean knows that look: his father was just like that, one minute he was fine, the next he was clinging to a bottle like it was his own mother; it was horrible, pitiful, sad and almost disgusting, because it was Dean the one who had to help him back on his feet, the one who had to clean the vomit away from the motel's carpets and the one who had to lie to Sammy, telling him that their dad was just sick, not fucking wasted.  
  
He loved his father more than he can tell, possibly more than it was right but those were times when, sometimes, he wished he was dead, so maybe Bobby would've take them with him, give them a real home, a family.  
  
John never touched them, never raised an hand on him or Sammy, but the state he was in sometimes was even worst, because maybe if he had been a violent bastard, Dean would have been able to hate him, instead of feeling guilty because he couldn't do anything to help him, to save him.  
  
It was the worst feeling a young boy could feel and sometimes the pain was so strong, Dean thought he was going to choke on it and die in his sleep.  
  
Things got better during the years, but those memories of their early years after their mom's death, are seared in Dean's brain.  
  
Looking at Cas in this state just brings them back.  
  
"I'm going to bed, I feel like shit."  
  
"Yeah, I'll go to sleep too. You think it's ok to just... you know... leave him here?"  
  
Cas is staring at nothing, Dean is not even sure he can hear them in the state he's in.  
  
"Yeah, he'll get over it eventually."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
"I know."  
  
The room feels foreign and unfamiliar, the bed is hard and not even the scent of the fresh sheets can cover the one of the dusty mattress, but Dean is so tired that he falls asleep almost as soon as his body touches it.

 

It was raining the day they burned their father's body: but they knew how to lit a fire pretty much even through a storm, so at least that wasn't a problem.  
  
Everything else was.  
  
John was dead, their father was dead, the only family they had left was burning in front of them in a city in the middle of nowhere, too far from home, too far from everything that mattered to John and to them.  
  
There was no one around, they were alone.  
  
Dean just stared at the flames consuming the body of the man who had been everything for him; his mentor, his role model, his hero, his...  
  
Dean didn't want to think about that, it wasn't right and he wasn't supposed to remember, not now that he was gone forever, that everything was over.  
  
Sam was crying, but Dean wasn't because he couldn't, he was the oldest son, he had to stay strong and watch out for Sammy, it was what his father kept telling him, over and over and over and over, until it became the only thing Dean could think about, the only thing that mattered for him.  
  
But Sammy abandoned them, he ran away, leaving them behind and only came back when nothing could be done anymore to set things right, when it was too late, when their father wasn't himself anymore, but was just a monster trapped in his body, who had his face, his body but that wasn't him.  
  
"I never had the chance to say “I'm sorry”."  
  
Dean didn't say anything, didn't look away from the fire, didn't cry.  
  
He suddenly remembered one of their happy days, when they were kids and their dad brought them to the beach somewhere on the east coast after a pretty hard job that took him away for more two weeks.  
  
"No hunting today, you kids enjoy yourself."  
  
Dean remembered the smell of the sea, the feeling of the sand under is feet, the wind on his face: remembered Sammy's laugh, his father's smile, remembered being happy...

 

He wakes up with that salty smell in his nose and in the back of his throat.  
  
His cheeks are wet with tears.  
  
An heavy limp weights on his chest and nothing seems to be able to make it go away.  
  
Dean just wipes them off with the back of his hand are stares at the ceiling for the rest of the night, unable to sleep, unable to move, unable to do anything that is not laying there in silence.

 

Dean doesn't realize he fell asleep again, until he wakes up, the sun shining on his face through the window without curtains: for a moment, he can't even remember where he is, his head is numbed by the lack of sleep and the heaviness of his body, but then his brain catches up and he calms down.  
  
He knows he should get up and go find Sam, but doesn't really want to right now, so he stays there, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind wander to the events of the previous day: this was supposed to be a quick stop before moving on, but now it doesn't look like it'll be that easy.  
  
Dean takes a deep breath a massages his sore eyes with his palms, before getting up and heading to the bathroom.  
  
He takes a long, refreshing shower, feelings a lot better when he comes out of it.  
  
It's half past nine and Sammy is still sleeping soundly, when Dean peaks in his room, his face buried in the pillow and snoring loudly: he should wake him up, but, against his best judgment, doesn't and lets him sleep in; he can tell that he needs to.  
  
Surprisingly, Cas is awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hands, looking outside the window: his face looks so peaceful, bathed in the morning sun, his blue eyes have a soft light in them, like something changed, like some of the weariness and sadness they had yesterday disappeared during the night.  
  
"Good morning, Dean."  
  
Cas looks at him smiling, not that fake smile he sported the day before, but a genuine one, like he's really happy to see him.  
  
"Hey, morning."  
  
"Coffee? Just made it."  
  
"Yeah, that sounds good."  
  
The man moves slowly in the kitchen, as quiet as a cat, then goes back at sitting in front of his, handing him a cup.  
  
"Your brother's still sleeping?"  
  
"Yeah, he needed to rest."  
  
"You didn't?"  
  
Dean shrugs.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
Cas nods, looking at him intently, exploring his face with his eyes, like there's some sort of mystery written all over it that he's trying to crack, while Dean drinks his coffee: there's a comfortable silence, one that doesn't need to be filled with unnecessary words and for the first time in a long time, he feels at ease with someone who is pretty much a total stranger to him; it's weird, but in a good way.  
  
"Listen, I wanted to apologize."  
  
"What for?"  
  
"Yesterday, during dinner, I... I was very rude with you and your brother. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's fine, man, really, no need to say anything."  
  
"No, I need to, so listen ok? Sometimes I... I have these moments. I'm sorry you two had to be there during one. I'm sure I looked like a total jerk, ignoring you two like that..."  
  
"Cas, it's ok. Really."  
  
The man smiles and nods, sighting in relief.  
  
"You drink a lot for being a nerdy, skinny guy."  
  
He laughs at the joke, that sound filling the room.  
  
"Let's just say it's not really easy to get me drunk. I need a lot of booze if I want to get to that point where nothing matters anymore."  
  
"What are you, a pro or something?"  
  
"Nah, I'm just... very resistant."  
  
Dean nods and finishes his coffee.  
  
"I should go wake up Sammy, so we can go to your brother."  
  
"I seriously doubt he's already awake."  
  
"And what are you doing awake so early when yesterday we almost has to knock your whole house down to get you up?"  
  
"I didn't sleep at all."  
  
"Wow."  
  
Cas laugh, shaking his head like it's not a big deal at all.  
  
"I'll go to the shop to see if Anna is there already, so she can try to get Gabe to do something helpful, feel free to eat something if you want."  
  
Dean is surprised by the responsible tone he spots in his voice, by the way he seems to be totally ok with helping him, even though he looks barely able to take care of himself.  
  
"Oh, ok, thanks."  
  
Cas simply smiles.  
  
"It's not a big deal, really."  
  
Dean nods and then they look at each other for a while, silence filling the room again, their eyes locked to each other, until Cas lowers his gaze and leaves the room.

 

It's almost half past eleven when Anna, Cas and the brother arrive at Gabriel's house: the man is outside waiting for them, shaved and well dressed like he's meeting someone who matters and that he wants to impress.  
  
"Hello, Sam. And hello... sorry your name was?"  
  
"Cut it out, Gabe, please."  
  
"Uh, don't be so mean, sister. I was just saying hello to Sam and... Dean. You like when we are nice and polite, don't you?"  
  
Anna rolls her eyes.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, ok. You did good, now skip the pleasantries and go to the important things."  
  
Gabriel takes a deep breath.  
  
"Right, so I spoke to a friend who lives in Virginia and who may be able to find the piece you need, if he's lucky. But it'll take time, at least three weeks and he's not even sure he can do it. My personal advice would be: just take another car, I'd pay good money for yours and you could leave in a couple of days..."  
  
"No."  
  
"Dean..."  
  
"I said no, Sam. We are not getting a new car, we are not selling this one. We will not do that, no matter how fucking desperate we are!"  
  
No one says anything for a while, they just look at the two brother uncomfortably, like they found themselves in the middle of something they don't know and that is clearly hard to handle.  
  
"Excuse us for a moment, ok?"  
  
Anna smiles at them.  
  
"Sure, no problem..."  
  
Sam takes him away from the others.  
  
"Are you out of your mind?! Do you want to stay stuck here for God knows how long?!"  
  
"Of course I don't, Sammy, what the fuck are you saying?!"  
  
"Then why?! Why are you being so damn difficult about it?"  
  
Dean looks at him like he doesn't recognize the man in front of him.  
  
"You just don't get it, do you?! That is dad's car, the only thing we have left of him. That car was his treasure, we grow up in that damn car, Sammy! We are not giving her away to the first motherfucker who asks just because we need to, ok?! We are not giving it away!"  
  
Sam stares at him incredulous, confused and almost hurt by Dean's reaction.  
  
"I know that! You think you're the only one who remembers? Well, you're not! But I thought you wanted to reach Bobby as soon as we could! I thought that was important too!"  
  
Dean gets closer to him and grabs his collar, a scary and angry look in his eyes; Sam shivers under it, but remains still.  
  
"We are not giving the Impala away. Not now, not never. I'll not hear another word about it, ok?"  
  
Sam lowers his eyes and nods, but Dean can tell he's not happy about it: he doesn't care, Sam doesn't know what that car means, he will never know.  
  
"Ok, Dean. Ok. We'll wait."  
  
He nods and let's him go.  
  
"I... sorry. I knew you didn't mean it like that. It's just... that's all we have left. We can't lose that too."  
  
"I know, Dean, you're right."  
  
"Come on, let's go tell them they'll have to endure us for a while!"  
  
Dean smiles at him and tries as hard as he can to make that smile less forced as possible.

**to be continued...**


	2. Howling ghosts they reappear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The title come from "King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men.

**Chapter 2  
Howling ghosts they reappear**

It's almost too easy, getting used to waking up in a real bed, eating real food, not having to stop in the middle of nowhere to piss and having a place to come back to at the end of the day: Dean tries to fight it, the natural instinct inside him kicking in and warning him, using his father's voice, making up dangers everywhere, in the smallest details, in the tiniest comforts, at the point that everything starts to look bad in his eyes.  
  
But in the end he can't help it: it has been too long, his body is tired, broken and Dean finds himself indulging in the small pleasures that a steady life has.  
  
They have been there only for three days and they already go in and out Cas's house like it's their own.  
  
The other man doesn't seem to mind, in fact he almost looks happy to have people around even though he keeps much to himself, staying locked in his room most of the time, showing up pretty much only for the meals and sometimes wandering around the house absently.  
  
Dean understands him: after been alone for so long, he's probably torn between giving in their company and keeping his distance from everything like he's used to; but he watches them, Dean can feel his eyes on him, on Sam, like he's studying them, trying to decide if losing most of his privacy is worth it or not.  
  
Anna, on the other hand, is friendly and warm from the start, always smiling and taking care of them like an older sister would and even though she's not much older than Dean, she has a wise and mature look in her eyes that makes it almost too easy to trust her; Sam does so almost instantly, starts to help her at the shop and spends a big part of his time talking to her.  
  
Dean does his best to be nice, but keeps his distance, looks at them from a far, not even trying to get to know her any better than the faint first impression he had of her: he doesn't know why he does that, maybe he should try flirting with her, using his charm to win her over, but there's something in Anna that keeps him away, that builds a shield between them.  
  
Maybe it's because she's too bright, too sunny, too alive; or maybe it's just because he's too tired even for that.  
  
They see Gabriel only once during those first days, when he briefly stops to give something to Cas, a small package that the other quickly hides from Anna's disapproving gaze.  
  
Cas gives Dean a knowing smirk while doing so, taking for granted that he would understand, that they have a secret and he smiles back even though he knows he shouldn't, that he shouldn’t share so much, that he shouldn't create bonds that have no reason to exist.  
  
Before going away, Gabriel smiles to Sam, only to Sam and Dean is surprised when his brother smiles back.

 

The Winchesters have been living in Spring Creek for less than a week and it feels like the whole town already adopted Sam.  
  
And after all, why they shouldn't?  
  
He's nice to people, smiles at the old ladies, helps them with their groceries, the children like him and he just has that good kid look that after a while wins people over as easily as Cas drinks a bottle of beer and very slowly they start accepting him.  
  
People still look at them suspiciously, always keeping a closer eye on them especially when they wander on their own without Cas, who barely leaves the house anyway, or Anna.  
  
They have a small, but relaxed talk with the local sheriff, Victor Henriksen, where they're kindly informed that they better don't screw up or he could have to show them their way out of town.  
  
But Sam in the ends convinces him too: the man clearly doesn't trust either of them, but, after their talk, he's inclined to give them a chance.  
  
"Miss Milton apparently thinks you two are worthy of her trust, I strongly suggest you don't betray it. She's... very important for the community. "  
  
"Miss Milton? You mean Anna?"  
  
"You live in her brother's house and didn't even bother asking them their last name?!"  
  
Sam looks embarrassed, Dean pretends he doesn't care, but stores the information anyway, it could always turn out to be useful one day.  
  
"We have been busy. You know, settling, getting to know the people here... these last few days have been really weird for us, I'm sure you can understand. "  
  
The man just smirks and nods.  
  
"Yes, of course, of course. Well, have a nice day, gentlemen. "  
  
The two brothers look at each other and then start laughing as soon as the sheriff is far enough not to hear them.  
  
"Well that's new. considering how many times we broke the law with dad, it's certainly a change when the local sheriff is all friendly with you. "  
  
"I know, right? Damn, they must really love Anna here, to trust us just because she say so. "§  
  
Sam shrugs, like he doesn't really care about that.  
  
"Well, she's very nice... "  
  
"Oh, Sammy. I hope you're not crushing on her, loverboy. "  
  
Sam laugh it off with an ease that almost makes Dean believe him.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm not. "  
  
"Whatever you say, Sammy, whatever you say. "  
  
"It's true! I'm really not interested, Dean. I know, it sounds shocking but it's true. "  
  
"Sure, Sammy. If you say you ain't interested, I believe you. "  
  
Sam rolls his eyes and keeps laughing.  
  
"No, you don't. You're a terrible liar, Dean. And I could detect your sarcasm even if I was deaf and blind! But it's true, really. I mean she's nice and sweet and everything, but... it's not for me. Plus, I'm pretty sure she's already seeing someone, but I think that's supposed to be a secret or something. "  
  
Dean looks at him with a funny expression on his face.  
  
"Really? How you know that?"  
  
"She... kinda said something. But I didn't ask cause I felt she didn't want to talk about it. "  
  
Dean nods, suddenly loosing interest in the matter as soon as it stops being a way to harass his brother.  
  
"Well, who would have said that even the angelic Anna Milton has her secrets. "

 

Sam starts working at the gas station more and more frequently, leaving Dean almost always on his own, bored and increasingly restless.  
  
So one morning he wakes up earlier than everyone and goes washing the Impala, taking care of emptying the weapons stash the night before, when he's sure everybody is asleep and hiding them carefully in the wardrobe.  
  
It takes almost a whole day, because Dean is careful, methodical and takes his time polishing the car until it's so clean and shiny it almost hurts to look at it in the still burning hot sun of those last days of September.  
  
He washes it until it's restored to the pristine state his father kept it into, something that they were forced to overlook for a while, busy worrying about a million of other things.  
  
During the first part of his mission, Cas stares at him for a while from inside the house, obviously enjoying seeing him sweating and working like a mad man and, in the end, even helps him, in the measure where changing the dirty water and giving him clean sponges when he needs them is considered helping.  
  
They don't really talk, Dean only tells him what to do and Cas obeys in his lazy and slow way, taking long pauses to smoke a cigarette or drink a beer.  
  
But Dean doesn't mind: he likes it like this, because washing the Impala was always something he liked doing alone, even when John was alive: it's his private moment, one of the few things he keeps for himself, that he treasures and protects from everyone, even from the ones who are closer to him.  
  
When they stop for a few hours to eat something and rest, Cas doesn't even try to talk: it's like he understands, like he can read inside him and can see how much this quiet silence and this peace mean to him and that it's already something that he's allowed to help even so little.  
  
And the weirdest thing is that Dean doesn't know why he's allowing him to, why doing things with Cas feels so natural and simple, even though they're pretty much strangers to each other, two lonely and broken people in a wrecked world that seem to be unable even to try to get to know each other.  
  
But, maybe, that's what makes it so easy for them to bond, because they're both lost and damaged.  
  
Cas smiles happily at him when they're done, like he feels accomplished and satisfied with himself, even though e didn't really do anything.  
  
"Well, that was fun... I hope I wasn't in your way too much, I'm a mess in these things."  
  
He shrugs.  
  
"You were ok. "  
  
"I'm glad my performance was satisfying you, mister. "  
  
Dean can't help but laughing, when Cas theatrically bows to him.  
  
"You're so fucking weird, you know that?"  
  
Cas shakes his head, still smiling.  
  
"We're all mad here, after all. "

 

Dean is sitting on the stairs at the back of Cas's house one afternoon, looking at the garden at sunset, the wild grass and the trees looking softer and dream like in the orange light.  
  
"Feeling lonely? I hope so, cause I feel like that too and your brother and my sister are too lost in their own small little world to listen and it's pissing me off. "  
  
Cas sits next to him, smocking a cigarette and looking relaxed and almost happy, something that doesn't really happens at this time of the day.  
  
"I'm not feeling in any particular way, honestly. "  
  
"Nice, you're bored, I'm bored, it's just perfect. "  
  
Cas offers him a cigarette and Dean takes it just to keep his hands and his mind busy for a while: they smoke in silence for a few minutes, looking at the sun slowly disappearing from their sight; there isn't much space on the stairs and they're sitting so close to each other that their shoulders and their knees are touching, but Dean doesn't mind.  
  
It's fine, feels strangely natural and ok: the silence, the quiet sounds that Cas makes, the light pressure of his body next to his own; it feels fine.  
  
"So, you like it here?"  
  
"It's ok, I guess. "  
  
Cas nods, a small smile appearing on his chapped lips.  
  
"The people here are a bit cold at first, but it'll get better once they get used to you. "  
  
"There's no reason why they should, thought. "  
  
The man turns to face him, slightly confused.  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"We weren't even supposed to stop here, I just... it wasn't planned, I don't think there's any reason why we should get used to this place or this place to us. We are going to leave anyway. "  
  
Cas doesn't say anything, but when he looks at him, Dean sees that the smiles is gone, replaced by that melancholic look that makes him look even worst than he usually is, brings out all those small wrinkles on his face, takes away that residual sparkle and makes Cas look like a complete wreck.  
  
And it makes Dean feel guilty for no reasons, because dammit, he shouldn't worry so much about the way his words affect the other man, shouldn't care about him at all, but he does, in a weird, twisted way and it's making him feel like shit.  
  
"You're right. I forgot. Sometimes I forget things, important things. Well, I don't really forget them, I just don't like remembering or thinking about them. Memories can cut inside you deeper than any knife, they can hurt you so damn much if you let them... "  
  
Dean stares at him, wide eyed and surprised, because... because that's exactly how his life has been in the past few months, a constant battle between memories he just wants to forget but that won't go away.  
  
"And how you stop them from hurting you?"  
  
Cas smiles at him, but it's a sad, broken smile.  
  
"You drown them in a bathtub of whiskey. "  
  
They stay like that in silence until the sun doesn't go away completely.

 

"Morning, Sammy. Slept well?"  
  
Sam finds his brother already in the kitchen, even though it's just half past eight and normally Dean is the one who sleeps in, especially since they have been there: there's no sign of Cas, but that's not surprising; he's already used not to see the house owner until midday.  
  
"Yeah, fine. You?"  
  
"Like a baby!"  
  
His brother is happily eating a bowl of cereal, smiling and making jokes with his usual ease; but Sam can tell something is off, that something has been off since their father died, that Dean is different.  
  
He wants to know what happened while he was away, what made him change so much, what made the brother he remembered into the one he's staring at now: but he never does, because talking to Dean is never easy, it's like walking on broken glasses and it takes all the care in the world not to get cut.  
  
Sam pours himself some coffee and keeps staring at him, at his face that brings the signs of the time that passes and, at the same time, still a memory of his youth: sometimes he forgets his brother is thirty, that he's a man now, he still sees the twenty"something boy he left behind years ago.  
  
And there are times when Dean is like a stranger to him, like they have just met and Sam has no clue what to say or what to do; times where he looks so much older than he is.  
  
But then Dean makes the same old jokes he used to make when they were younger, when Dean laughs and his laugh is still just the same as he remembers it.  
  
They're still brothers, they're still family: but Dean isn't the old Dean anymore and there are times Sam when feels lonely, misses how things were and feels that pinch of regret that he tries so much to bury return at full force.  
  
"What's that look? Cheer up, Sammy! You're ruining my breakfast!"  
  
He tries to smile.  
  
"Sorry, I was just thinking. "  
  
"That's your problem, you think too much. "  
  
"Yeah... I know. "  
  
They sit in silence for a while, eating breakfast.  
  
"Dean... "  
  
"Mmh?"  
  
"You're ok, right?"  
  
Dean stops eating and looks at him, his green eyes fixed in his, examining his face: nothing changes in his expression, apparently, but his body goes stiff.  
  
"Of course, I'm totally fine. "  
  
"You sure? You know you can tell me if... if you need to tell me something. You can tell me anything, really. I'm always here for you. "  
  
"What the hell, Sammy?! What's wrong with you this morning? You gulped some chick lit novel or something?!"  
  
"I just... I just wanted you to know. "  
  
"Well, now I do, happy? Can I finish eating this in peace, please?"  
  
"Yeah... sure. Go ahead. I'm going to the shop. "  
  
Dean nods and keeps eating, like nothing happened, like Sam didn't really say anything.  
  
He sighs and leaves without another word.

 

Anna is waiting for him in front of the gas station, but the shop is closed: the girl is smiling at him.  
  
"Hey, everything ok?"  
  
"Morning, Sam. And yeah, it's fine!"  
  
"Why is the shop still closed?"  
  
"Oh, I was thinking about taking a day off. To show you something. "  
  
"Something? What?"  
  
The smile on Anna's face beams.  
  
"Your brother said you like to read. So I'm taking you to the public library!"  
  
Sam is speechless.  
  
"You have a public library?"  
  
"It's nothing, really, nothing big or fancy, but I thought you make want to go take a look at it... "  
  
"Of course! Yeah! That'd be great!"  
  
Sam smiles, happy and grateful, he small discussion with Dean already forgotten.  
  
"Well, let's go then!"

 

The library is not big, but is stashed with books literally on every surface available: it's located in an building that obviously fills the need of the community, but that is dull and cold on the outside, just a container without any personality.  
  
But Sam feels happy about it anyway, because he can't believe that in the broken world he lives in, something like that can still exist.  
  
But it does and it's right in front of him: books and books almost shining on the shelves, looking at him like they were waiting just for his arrival.  
  
There are other people in the library, mostly old men that look at him with a faint suspicious look, before noticing Anna.  
  
"Wow, this place is... amazing! Where did you get all these books?!"  
  
Anna shrugs, looking around like she knows the place by heart, caressing the back of the books as they make their ways through the depths of the library.  
  
"From other libraries in abandoned towns nearby mostly. Some were donated by the people who moved here. "  
  
"I see, well, it's good that these books didn't get lost, it'd be a real shame. "  
  
"I agree. Memories are important, memories help you remember who you are and where you come from. Even if they hurt, you should keep them and treasure them. And books are the memory of this world, right?"  
  
Sam nods, not sure he understands the point Anna is trying to make, but obviously it means something to her, because her face becomes serious and loses the freshness of her smile a little bit.  
  
"You ok?"  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. I was just remembering something. "  
  
"Something about where you come from?"  
  
Anna suddenly turns to face him, her face losing color like he said something she was not expecting and that is making her feel uncomfortable; there's almost a panicky look in her eyes and Sam wonder what the hell is going on with her and, most importantly, what she's hiding.  
  
Because you don't usual react to a simple question like his was that way.  
  
"What? What did you say?"  
  
"You... you didn't live here your whole life, right? I thought maybe you were remembering something from your past... "  
  
The girl sighs in relief and takes a deep breath, smiling at him and trying to shake off and hide again what she let slip through.  
  
"Yeah! Yes, that's right... I was thinking about... the place we come from. "  
  
"And where you guys come from?"  
  
She actually needs a few seconds to answer.  
  
"Pointiac. Pontiac, Illinois. "  
  
"And why you moved here?"  
  
She sits on one of the little couches, her hands sliding on her legs nervously.  
  
"We wanted a fresh start, we had nothing left there anyway, our whole family was... dead. "  
  
"But... Cas said you had other siblings and that they were just... gone. "  
  
"Oh... yeah, a couple of them were living abroad. We know nothing of them, it hurts less to just think that they're gone forever. "  
  
She tries to smile, but her smile is strained and forced, so Sam decides to change subject and starts asking her about books and other things: Anna visibly relaxes and her usual smile comes back on her face.  
  
But Sam can't stop thinking about what just happened, about they way Anna reacted, about the way her whole body seemed to be fighting to hide something, to bury it deeper and deeper inside herself and keep it away for his sight and from his questions.  
  
Sam sensed that something was off from the start: maybe it was just his hunter instinct kicking in, maybe it was just a feelings, but he knew it, deep in his heart.  
  
Something about the three Milton siblings buggered him from the moment he met them: maybe it's the way Cas buries himself in drugs and alcohol, like he's so broken he can't possibly put himself back together no matter how hard he tries, like something terrible happened to him.  
  
Maybe it's how much Anna tries to fit in, to make them all fit in, the way she takes care of Cas almost like a mother would.  
  
Maybe it's the hunted look in Gabriel's eyes, that looks he tries to hide behind a facade of bravado and wit, but that you can't help to notice if you look hard enough.  
  
Probably it's just a feeling and it's actually nothing, just his imagination, his tendency to see mysteries and secret everywhere, a residue of his father's paranoia.  
  
But his guts tell him that he's right, that there's something under the surface, something big.  
  
The question is: does he want do dig?  
  
He briefly considers telling Dean about his suspects, but almost instantly decides against it: he doesn't want to bother him, wants him to rest, to recover, to leave behind some of that pain that his brother takes with him everywhere, because that is an enemy big enough.  
  
He doesn't need more worries, more battles: all he needs is some peace.  
  
Sam will get over it.  
  
"Hey, Sam, are you ok? You're so quiet... "  
  
Anna gently shakes him and Sam comes back to his senses.  
  
"Yeah! Of course, I was just... just wondering what books I could get, do you think they'd trust me with them or I need to ask permission directly to the sheriff?"  
  
Anna laughs.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll vouch for you!"  
  
Sam returns the smiles, pushing all his doubts and question in the back of his mind.  
  
"Great! Let's go pick something up, then!"  
  
"Right, let's! Actually I think I'll choose some books too, I feel like reading something new. "  
  
Sam nods.  
  
"We could start a reading club!"  
  
"We should, we totally should. "  
  
The two of them smile at each other, everything else forgotten for the moment.

 

The idea comes to him one morning, when for the third time in two days, Cas's shower suddenly dies on him.  
  
"Oh, are you fucking kidding me?!"  
  
Dean stares at it, rage mounting inside him, naked, dripping and still covered in soap: it's funny how this actually resembles his old life, made of crappy motel where shit never worked and where everything was ten times worst than it looked.  
  
He can't help but laugh at the irony of the whole thing and keeps laughing until his jaw hurts, like this is the funniest joke he ever heard: he doesn't even remember the last time he laughed this hard, a million years ago probably.  
  
It helps him to let go all the bottled tension he has inside.  
  
The sound echoes in the empty room for a few minutes before he finally manages to calm down: Dean hits the shower a couple of times and finally he manages to make enough water coming out so he can at least get the soap off his body.  
  
Then, after he dried and dressed himself, he goes to find Cas.

 

"I'm gonna fix this damn place you live in. "  
  
Cas is laying on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the table, an arm on his face and he's clearly pretending to be asleep, probably in the eventuality Anna comes looking for him.  
  
"What?"  
  
He doesn't even bother looking at him, he just keeps laying there, barely acknowledging Dean's presence.  
  
"Your damn house is a fucking wreck, it needs maintenance, like serious shit. I'm gonna do what I can, cause there's no way I'm gonna stay here with the chance that the roof could fall on my head any time the wind blows a little bit harder. "  
  
Cas groans, but finally gets up and there's an offended and almost shocked expression on his face, like he can't believe what Dean is telling him.  
  
"Oh shut up! This place isn't so bad! I'm sorry if you're used to king size beds and suites, but this ain't the Ritz. "  
  
"Please, I've seen more fourth class motels in a month than you have in your entire life. But my point still stands. You need to fix this place, I'm willing to do what I can. "  
  
"Oh? And why would you? Out of the goodness of your heart?"  
  
Dean snorts.  
  
"You're gonna pay me, of course. "  
  
"Wait a second: you and your brother live in my house, for free, you eat my food, use my things and I should pay you to repair the house you are allowed to stay in because I'm a kind and generous soul?"  
  
Dean laughs and sits next to him, trying to be serious even though the expression on Cas's face is fucking hilarious, all eyebrows frowning and eyes glaring at him: he looks as scary as a pissed off hamster.  
  
"Point one: we paid for most of the food ourselves. Point two: you're gonna have to get these works done anyway sooner or later, unless you wanna go live on the streets once winter comes, cause this place ain't gonna handle the rain and the snow and the cold unless you do something about it. I'll do what I can and charge you an honest price. "  
  
Cas stares at him for a moment, then he starts laughing softly.  
  
"Honest price... you should be a salesman. Are you a salesman? I don't even know what you two do for a living actually... God, I should have asked, I'm so fucking bad at this... "  
  
Dean rolls his eyes and Cas becomes serious again.  
  
"No, I'm not a salesman. And yes, I'd be honest! Unlike other people. Plus, Sam is getting paid for working with Anna... "  
  
"Anna is Anna, I'm not her, she's a saint, I'm a broke drunkard. "  
  
"A broke drunkard with an house on the verge of falling on his head. If I were you, I'd stop drinking and start saving. "  
  
Cas looks at him for a while, his face slowly changing into a small smile that gets bigger and bigger, until he's laughing, an expression of genuine amusement and almost happiness on it.  
  
"You... you're really something, you know that? I knew it since I saw you the first time, you just had a sparkle in you that... that got me. You are really something, Dean Winchester "  
  
Dean smiles back, legitimately amused by the whole situation.  
  
"So? What you say?"  
  
The other takes a deep breath and lights a cigarette, abandoning himself against the couch, looking at him with half closed eyes through the smoke.  
  
"Why would you do this? You'll be gone soon, if things go the way you hope. Why would you even care about what happens to me or to my house?"  
  
Dean doesn't answer right away, takes some time to think about it because, truth is, he doesn't really know why he wants to do this, why he wants to help Cas: yeah, he's bored, inactivity doesn't suit him and he's craving action of any kind; he also wouldn't say no to some extra and for once legally earned money.  
  
But that's not really why he's willing to do this: maybe it's because Cas welcomed him, because he never asked questions that he knew Dean wouldn't answer; maybe because there's something in those blue, haunted and sad eyes that just makes him want to do something for him.  
  
Because helping people is pretty much the only thing he can do, the only thing he was raised to do.  
  
"I... I really don't know. I just think it's right. You helped us, I wanna help you. "  
  
"But you still wanna get paid. "  
  
Dean rolls his eyes again and sighs.  
  
"Ok, ok. Fine. I guess you're right. You should get payed, it's only fair. Well, what can I say? Thank you?"  
  
"You don't have to thank me... pay me for my work and we'll be even. "  
  
Cas nods.  
  
"Fine. "  
  
Then, suddenly, so fast Dean is actually startled and startling him is not easy at all, Cas gets closer to him and puts an hand on his shoulder.  
  
Dean's body goes completely still, frozen in that moment, with Cas's body pressing again his, making him feel at the same time good and scared: his eyes look even bigger from up close, slightly unfocused but beautiful, absolutely stunning and Dean can't help but staring at them, can't help sinking into them.  
  
They stay like this just for a few seconds, staring at each other, their body closer than they've ever been, so close Dean can see all the small wrinkles on the other man's face, smell his scent, feel his breath on his face.  
  
Cas is examining his face like he's trying to discover something important that is hidden all over his face, in the sockets of his eyes and it almost feels like he's just gonna keep looking at him forever.  
  
But, in the end, he doesn't and after a few more moments, Cas just backs away, smiling.  
  
"Still, thank you, Dean. "  
  
Then he gets up and gets out the room, leaving Dean there on the couch, confused and not really sure that what just happened was real and not just his imagination.

 

He starts with the two bathrooms, fixes the leaks and the showers, repairs the shaking mirror, patches the best he can the chipped tiles: that part is easy and doesn't require that much work.  
  
Cas follows him around, like he's suddenly interested in the welfare of his house, asks him stupid questions, annoys him in every way he can think about until Dean is forced to send him away before he punches him.  
  
Sam is surprised at first, then slightly pleased and can't help but teasing him about it.  
  
"Wow, you're putting so much effort in this!"  
  
"It's a job, you do your job seriously or you better don't even start. "  
  
"Yeah, yeah, ok. But... I mean... you... Dean Winchester the handyman? Didn't see that coming at all. "  
  
"You have your little summer job and I can't have mine?"  
  
"Calm down, Dean! I'm not saying anything! Actually, I'm happy you're doing this. Moping around with nothing to do ain't your thing for sure, I'm glad you found something to do. Really!"  
  
"Well thanks, Sammy. Can you hand me that wrench?"  
  
"Cas was annoyed though, said you sent him away. "  
  
Dean smiles a bit.  
  
"Well, he was being a stupid little bitch, ok? He was getting on my nerves with all his questions, plus he was totally trying to piss me off. "  
  
Sam is staring at him, a funny smile on his face, one Dean isn't sure he likes.  
  
"What? What you smiling about?"  
  
"Nothing. Just... you two get along, I wasn't really expecting this. "  
  
Dean pretends not to notice the tone he used and that the thing doesn't touch him at all.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He just... actually I'm not surprised at all. You two are very much alike!"  
  
"Piss off, bitch!"  
  
Sam laughs.  
  
"Jerk!"

 

Cas is allowed to follow him around again when he starts working outside.  
  
The days are still hot enough to make him sweat and suffer under the sun, but there's a pleasant breeze that caresses his body and his face, making it slightly more bearable that it'd be otherwise.  
  
"Nice tattoo you have there. What is it? Does it mean something?"  
  
Dean had to take his drenched shirt off, exposing his chest and the anti possession tattoo he has; he didn't even think about it until Cas pointed it out, forcing him to find a good excuse for it.  
  
"It's just a thing I liked. When I turned eighteen I decided I wanted to get a tattoo and that looked cool and manly!"  
  
Cas laugh, while sitting on the stairs, smoking.  
  
"It certainly looks nice, not gonna lie... "  
  
He can tell Cas is staring at him, at his half naked body, but tries to ignore the feeling of those eyes on him, almost caressing his whole figure, and focuses on the window he's repairing.  
  
But after a few minutes, he finds out that it's harder than he thought it would be, trying to ignore Cas's piercing eyes.  
  
When he turns to face him, he catches him licking his lips: there a sort of hunger in his eyes, something hidden under the smile, a desire, a want that makes his skin crawl in a familiar way; the one that usually precedes a night of hot sex.  
  
"Cas, not for nothing, but last person who looked at me like that... I got laid... "  
  
The other man licks his lips again, obviously amused about the whole thing.  
  
"Are you proposing?"  
  
"Are you interested?"  
  
They look at each other for a while, Cas's eyes almost trying to eat his whole body with their look, until he laughs, breaking the tension.  
  
"I just like to leave all the doors open... "  
  
Dean laughs too, trying to forget the rush of arousal that just passed through his whole body.  
  
"You got nothing better to do then sitting there and teasing honest workers?"  
  
"You mean like getting drunk or smoking some pot? Yeah, I could, but... you know... I like the view. "  
  
Dean stops working for a moment.  
  
"The house, I mean the house. I care about it a lot, you know. "  
  
They both burst into an hard and loud laugh, looking at each other like old mates, the previous exchange put aside again, for now: until the next time one of them will hint something and they'll find each other in the same situation again.  
  
"Yeah, right, Cas, right. "  
  
"I'm serious! "  
  
"Oh, yeah, right... "  
  
Silence falls again between them, a soft, comforting and easy silence, one that doesn't need to be filled with useless words because it's perfectly fine to stay like this, they don't need anything else; what they both need is this peace, this quiet feeling.  
  
"I'm starting to get used to have you two around. "  
  
Dean stops working and turns to face him, his face almost sad to hear that.  
  
"You shouldn't. "  
  
Cas sighs.  
  
"I know. But making good decisions was never something I was good at, you know?. I'm actually a pro at making shitty ones. I fucked up pretty much my whole life just like that. "  
  
He snaps his fingers to prove his point.  
  
"What you did?"  
  
Cas doesn't answer, of course and Dean doesn't even know why he bothered asking: he knew he wasn't going to know anything, but still he tried, like Sam does.  
  
There's something inside them that just makes them keep trying no matter how useless it is.  
  
"Another story for another time, Dean Winchester. "  
  
He gets up and disappears inside the house.  
  
Dean keeps working in complete silence.  
  
That night, he goes to bed feeling more tired than usual, his head heavy and confused, filled with what seems to be a million thoughts.  
  
It takes him hours to finally fall asleep...

 

He's standing in a motel room, the one where his father died into and John is staring at him, his eyes bloodshot and angry, looking almost yellowish and sick in that light, filled with a wild and dangerous hatred he never thought he could see in them.  
  
And when he smiles, it gets worst, because his face assumes an almost feral look that makes Dean want to run out of there, just to get out of the room and keep running until his heart will stop, until his body will crash and he'll just lay there on the road, dead.  
  
But, like he could hear his thoughts, his father suddenly grabs his wrist, hard, so hard it hurts like a bitch, so hard Dean fears he'll break it: the pain grows and grows and John keeps smiling like a mad man, like he's enjoying it.  
  
And the worst part is that he probably really is.  
  
"Where do you think you're doing Dean? You wanted to run away from me? From your old man? Like that other little shit did?"  
  
"No... no... I wasn't... "  
  
"Don't lie to me! Don't... don't you dare lying to me, Dean. I can tell if you are. I know you, I know you better than anyone... "  
  
Dean is sure he's going to be sick, because that touch he feels on his skin is repulsing and disgusting, feels nothing like John's: because the person in front of him is not John anymore.  
  
It has his face, his voice, his body but it's not him, he can't be him: his father would never do this, not to him.  
  
Dean tries to break free, but the thing that is not John anymore doesn't let go, tightens the grip and he can feels his bones starting to give up to the pressure: the pain is terrible, but he desperately tries to stay focused, to find a way out.  
  
That's when he spots the gun on the bedside.  
  
"It should have been you, you should have died, not your mother, we would have been so happy without you, me, Mary and Sam. No one needs you, Dean, you're a waste of space on this world. A pathetic, sick, disgusting waste of space... "  
  
Dean knows he'll only get one chance, so, when John is distracted by his own ramblings, he launches for the gun.

 

"Dean... "  
  
He can feel the cool metal under his hands, cold and terrifying...  
  
"Dean... "  
  
He doesn't remember pulling the trigger...  
  
"Dean!"

 

Dean wakes up, drenched in sweat, on the verge of throwing up, his head heavy and in pain, his body rigid: he can't breath at first, his lungs refuse to work, then air is filling them and it hurts so bad at first, feels like he's breathing liquid fire that burns his body from the inside.  
  
He doesn't dare closing his eyes, he fears the nightmare will come back to hunt him down, to kill him, to destroy him to the point that there'll be nothing left of him.  
  
"Dean?"  
  
That soft whisper startles him, making him almost jump off the bed and reaching for the gun in the drawer: there's someone on the door, a clouded figure that he struggles to see in the darkness around them.  
  
The figure steps forward and Dean finally recognize Cas: the man doesn't do anything, he just stays there, looking at him, his blue eyes the only part of his face he can clearly see; the rest is confused into the shadows that surrounds them, the soft light of the moon useless right now.  
  
Dean wants to say something, anything, but his voice is stuck in his throat and he can't get it out, so he just stares at Cas, waiting for him to be the first one to make a move, not even daring to breath too loudly.  
  
The man comes closer enough to leave something on his bedside, but says nothing, doesn't try to touch him or do anything; Dean's eyes follow him, never leave him, like he's bomb ready to explode and he just can't take his eyes off him.  
  
A smiles appears on Cas's lips, one of those smiles you let coming out when you don't know what else to do, but that do almost nothing to make the other person feel any better: they just look forced and fake, but Dean still appreciates the gesture, because it distracts him from the everything else.  
  
Then he simply turns around and leaves.  
  
Leaving a bottle of absinthe behind for him.  
  
Dean looks sat it for a second, not sure what to think of it: then he lets out a nervous laugh that sounds more like a strangled sigh, takes it, pressed it against his forehead, the cold glass feeling refreshing and pleasant against his heated skin.  
  
Then opens the bottle and takes one, long sip.

 

Morning doesn't come fast enough: Dean spends the rest of the night in the living room, curled on the couch like a sick child, unable to sleep, unable to do anything that is not staring at the emptiness around him.  
  
At some point, he turn on the radio, because the silence is so deafening it almost hurts and scares him more than everything else: a young girl is singing about blue jeans, white shirts and men who look like James Dean, in a sultry and seductive voice that manages to distract him from his thoughts for a while.  
  
He considers going to look for Cas, so at least he won't be alone, but can't even find the strength to move and doesn't want to go back upstairs while it's still dark.  
  
He feels like shit: he dreamed about his father's illness before, but never like this.  
  
The dreams where never that real, that strong, terrible and cruel; it felt so real, so... he doesn't even know how it felt, because his brain refuses to allow him to even think about it, to even consider the idea of exploring the feelings it left on him.  
  
Not now, at least.  
  
He tries to remind himself that that's not how his father died, that it didn't go that way, but the memory of the dream is stronger than him, than his will and he can't clearly separate the two things in his current state of mind.  
  
Suddenly he hears someone walking down the stairs and stopping midway: he knows it's Cas and knows he's sitting down on the stairs and looking at the back of the couch; he can almost feel the unspoken words he's thinking.  
  
"I know how you feel... "  
  
Cas's voice is a soft and sad whisper; Dean keeps laying there, doesn't move, doesn't do anything but listening.  
  
"I'm sorry, I wish I could do something... anything... "  
  
"Why... why would you... "  
  
"Because I know what it feels like... and it's the fucking worst... "  
  
"Why you were in my room?"  
  
Cas doesn't reply right away, Dean can hear him light a cigarettes and smoking in silence for a moment.  
  
"I heard you trashing and talking in your sleep, so I just went to see what was wrong... no one deserves that. "  
  
"What the fuck do you think you know? You know fucking nothing... "  
  
"Maybe I don't and honestly I don't want to, it's none of my business. But I know pain, that bitch and I are long time friends, believe me. I know everything about guilt, about mourning... I fucking know that shit, Dean. "  
  
Dean takes those works in, elaborates him and they almost manage to overcome the sudden numbness he feels: he feels bad for him, for himself, for the way their lives are, a pile of shit that just never ends, a constant pain that just never stops hurting.  
  
"Are you here to tell me that it gets better?"  
  
"No, I'm here to tell you that it doesn't at first, it only gets worst. But... but you're alive. You're still alive, still breathing. That is something, it'll always be something. No matter how beaten and hurt and destroyed you are, as long as you're breathing, you have something and things can still change. "  
  
Dean lets out a bitter and harsh laugh.  
  
"That's the whole problem, Cas: I'm still breathing. And sometimes, most of the times, I feel like I shouldn't be. "  
  
This time, it's Cas's turn to laugh, but it's an empty laugh, almost a cruel one that makes Dean's heart hurt.  
  
"Yeah. I know, right?"

 

Sam is suspiciously happy that morning, a bright smile on his well rested face and Dean wishes he could care about it, but between his nightmare and the chat with Cas, he has no strength, no will power left: he just feels empty.  
  
Can't even eat because the food repulses his stomach and his head hurts terribly, pulsing and throbbing with pain.  
  
Everything looks blurred and confused, still tainted by the memories of the night before: the world looks colorless, empty, so far away from him and he feels completely alone, even though he's sitting with Sam in the kitchen, eating lunch.  
  
"Dean? Are you listening to me?"  
  
He didn't even realize he was talking. "  
  
"No, sorry. I wasn't. "  
  
"Well, I was saying that Anna wants to do something for the children one of these days, like reading them stories and things like that and..."  
  
Something inside him breaks at that point, without any warning sign: it just does and he can't stop the words from coming out of his mouth.  
  
"Stop. Please, stop. Just... shut up... "  
  
Sam's smile freezes on his face, confusion taking over.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Shut up about this crap! Who cares about Anna, the children, this whole damn town! We'll leave soon Sammy, no point in getting involved in shit you'll not finish! No point is making friends who will forget you exist as soon as we'll be gone! Can't you fucking get it?!"  
  
Dean takes is head between his hands and rubs his eyes: they hurt, everything hurts.  
  
And what hurts the most is Sam's wounded expression.  
  
"Wow. You're really a damn son of a bitch, Dean... You are the one that got us stuck here, if you hadn't been so damn stubborn about the car, we'd be on the road right now! And now you blame me because I'm trying to fit in?!"  
  
"There's no damn point, Sam! We don't need friends! We don't need anything! This will only be another problem, your playing house and shit! This is not our place! We don't belong here!"  
  
Sam is angry, angrier than Dean has ever seen him, but he doesn't even care, because he's raging too, he's so fucking furious and doesn't even know why.  
  
He just needs to scream and punch things, his head so clouded he can't even waste one thought about the consequences his words will have.  
  
"Maybe you don't and don't want to, but you're not me, Dean! For God's sake! You're so selfish, you don't give a shit about anyone else! You just sit there and judge me like you're fucking God! Who the fuck gave you that right?!"  
  
"How the fuck dare you talking to me like this?! I am selfish?! You're the one who left! You're the one who ran away and abandoned us!"  
  
It's a twisted pleasure that he'll regret far too soon, to see the color completely drain from Sam's face, to see his eyes filled with a desperate hurt, with guilt and regret and at the same time, with rage.  
  
Sam takes a deep breath and Dean can see that his hands are shaking, like he's trying very hard not to hit him, something he probably deserves.  
  
"That's the point, isn't it? That I left, that in yours and dad's mind I abandoned you two... well, you know what, Dean? I don't have to explain or justify myself to you. It's my life, not yours. I hope one day you'll learn that. "  
  
Dean wants to say something, but Sam doesn't wait for him to decide what to do: he takes his jacket and leaves him alone in the empty kitchen without looking back.

 

At first, Dean doesn't do anything.  
  
He just stays there, sitting in the empty and messy room, his eyes unfocused, his mind blank: there's only silence around him and he's alone.  
  
He screwed up really badly: but, after all, he always ends up screwing up, one way or another, but this time... this time he probably did the worst thing he could think of doing.  
  
Because he just hurt the person who matters the most for him.  
  
He loves his brother more than anything in this world, cares about him more than he cares about himself, would do pretty much everything for him, to keep him safe, to protect him, to make sure he's ok: Dean sacrificed so many parts of his life for him out of love, because Sam came first, Sam meant more to him than a girl, a boy, a job, school, more than everything.  
  
He thought Sam would do the same for him.  
  
But Sam left him, left his father, left what remained of their family: and for what?  
  
A normal life? A life without monsters, without responsibilities? Without their father's pain, without his suffocating guilt, his expectations, his rules?  
  
He turned his back on them and this is something that burns inside him, that never stops hurting.  
  
A memory that, no matter how hard he tries to push it in the back of his mind, to get over it, always comes back to haunt his thoughts, a small voice that won't shut up and that comes to whisper filth and venom into his ears.  
  
"He doesn't need you, not really. He wants to leave you behind again, wants to go back to his old life without you. He was happier without you. He will abandon you again if he has the chance and you know it, Dean. Deep down in that black heart of yours, you know it... "  
  
Dean loves his brother, spent his whole life taking care of him: but there's a small part inside him that, maybe, will never forgive him for leaving him behind, for turning his back to him.  
  
That almost hates him for it.  
  
For leaving him alone, for not being there for him, when he was always there for Sam since they were kids, even when Dean couldn’t do anything for him, but still tried and tried and tried...  
  
And this feeling scares him, this realization is terrible, because it just proves Sam's point: that he is selfish, unforgiven and hard inside.

 

Cas is sitting on the couch, when he goes looking for him: not drinking, or smoking, or sleeping.  
  
Just sitting there like he was waiting for Dean, like he knew he would come, that he would need him.  
  
Dean sits down next to him and Cas changes position so he can face him, his legs pressed against his chest, the tip of his feet almost touching Dean's leg.  
  
For a while they don't say anything: Dean looks in front of him, his eyes staring at the blank wall, while Cas's are on him, waiting in silence.  
  
"You heard me and Sam fighting?"  
  
"Kinda hard not to. You guys were really loud. "  
  
Dean just nods, takes a deep breath and rests his head against the couch.  
  
"Dammit. Damn everything. It's so fucking hard, everything is. "  
  
"I know. It's called life. "  
  
"Life is a whore. "  
  
"Of course it is, why it shouldn't?"  
  
"Yeah... why?"  
  
Dean turns to face him and Cas just shrugs.  
  
"I don't have an answer to this, sorry. "  
  
"Yeah, I wasn't really expecting one... "  
  
"But you will go on. One way or another, you will. It's called being human, I think. You fight, you fall, you get up, you fall again, you keep fighting... that's it. Until you die and you can finally rest in the garden of the Lord. "  
  
"Encouraging, Cas. "  
  
"What you want me to say? That everything's gonna be ok?"  
  
Dean snorts, but a very, very small smile creeps on his lips.  
  
"Yeah, why not? "Cheer up, son, the sun is still shining, the birds are still singing, time will heal every wound"and shit like that. "  
  
Cas laughs, shaking his head, hiding his eyes behind his hand.  
  
"I'm sorry, Dean, but I'm a terrible liar, literally the worst ever. But I'd lie to you if I thought it'd make you feel better, I really would. "  
  
Dean looks at him, into his eyes and they are so clear, so sincere and honest and filled with something that looks like care, like he really, really wants to help him, but doesn't know how.  
  
And this makes him sad.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Cas smiles.  
  
"I don't know. I really don't. And I try not to ask myself why I do or don't do things, because if I did... well, I'm not sure I'd be able to stay as sane as I am right now. And yes, I know, how can an alcoholic, addicted to painkillers loser be considered sane? Well, I'd be much, much worse than I am right now. So I don't complain, I don't ask myself stupid questions and I don't look back. "  
  
His voice lowers, his eyes are fixed on the coffee table, like it's the source of an hidden and secret truth he's trying to unveil.  
  
"Because what's behind you... sometimes you really don't want to see it. You just want to forget it ever happened. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath: his head doesn't hurt anymore, but he feels tired, depressed and just wants to sleep for like a whole month without thinking about anything, just laying on a bed and rest.  
  
But nightmares won't leave him alone, he knows that, they'd only get worst and worst until he'll go mad, until he'll lose his mind and become just a broken, empty shell.  
  
Cas's eyes are back on him.  
  
"You lost someone important, didn't you?"  
  
He attempts a smile, but can't manage it, no matter how hard he tries: not this time.  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"The way you talk about... this. You know how it feels, you know what's like. "  
  
"Yeah... I do. "  
  
"So, who?"  
  
Cas remains silent for a while, like he's looking for the way to talk about it that will hurt less.  
  
"I had a family. A nice family: a good wife, a daughter... I... I was different man back then, very, very different. And then they died. They died, I didn't and everything changed. "  
  
"I'm sorry. "  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry too. And for you? "  
  
Dean swallows loudly, looking away from him, because he's scared those blue eyes will keep looking inside him and discover all his secrets.  
  
"My father. "  
  
Cas nods.  
  
"I'm sorry. "  
  
"But you still have Anna and Gabriel. You still have a family. I... "  
  
"You have Sam. No matter what happens or happened, no matter how full of shit this life is, no matter how much it hurts to breath, to live... you still have your brother and this means something, it means a lot, Dean. "  
  
Dean shakes his head, but Cas reaches out for him, puts and hand of his leg and squeezes it gently.  
  
"Don't. You know I'm right. You're not alone, dammit, you have a brother that loves you. And that is a love bigger than any other. Trust me, I know: I'd literally be dead if it hadn't been for Anna and Gabriel. "  
  
"I screwed up, Cas. I really did. "  
  
"Then find a way to fix it, you dumbass. "  
  
Dean laughs softly.  
  
"Wow, are we that close already, that you feel like you can go all judgmental on me and shit?"  
  
Cas squeezes his leg a little harder, smiling.  
  
"I think we can say that we are. "  
  
Dean nods and puts his own hand on Cas's: his skin is pleasant under his, warm, soft, alive.  
  
It makes him think and feel things he hadn't feel in a long time.  
  
"Yeah, I think we can. Cas?"  
  
"Mh?"  
  
"You're not that bad for being an alcoholic, addicted to painkillers loser. "  
  
His laugh sweetly fills the room.  
  
"And you're not that bad for being... well.. you. "

 

Sam is walking, walking and walking, but doesn't know where to go or what to do.  
  
He's angry, hurt and tired, because fighting with Dean is always bad, always makes him feel like complete crap, drains him of all his energies and leaves him broken and in a terrible and desperate pain and guilt.  
  
He knows his brother is suffering, that he's still trying to put the pieces of his life back together after their father's dead, but he doesn't deserve this: doesn't deserve to be the scapegoat, the dummy where Dean can vomit all his resentment and his bottled pain.  
  
It'd like he doesn't realize that Sam is suffering too, that he's desperate and sad and angry at everything just like he is, that he's not the only one who lost a father he loved no matter how screwed up he was.  
  
Dean is good at blaming others, at making them feel like shit; sometimes Sam thinks that he and John are just the same.  
  
He considers going to find Anna, but that would be the first place Dead would go to look for him and he really doesn't want that to happen.  
  
Not now.  
  
So he keeps walking, until a voice stops him.  
  
"Hello there, Sammy. "  
  
Gabriel is looking at him from his porch, smiling.  
  
"Hey. "  
  
"What happened to you? You look like hell... "  
  
"Nothing, really. I was just... taking a walk. "  
  
The man approaches him, looking intensely at him, exploring his face and it's like he can easily read the lies written on his face.  
  
"Yeah, right. Nothing. Come on, tell me. "  
  
"Really, Gabriel it's... "  
  
"Yeah, yeah. Skip the lies please, do both of us a favor. "  
  
Sam takes a deep breath.  
  
"I just... had a fight with Dean. "  
  
"What that shithead told you to make you look like this?"  
  
He can't help but smile at the outraged look on Gabriel's face.  
  
"I... I don't really wanna talk about it. "  
  
"Fair enough. I wouldn't either. Come in, I'll make some coffee and we can talk about anything you want. "  
  
"Gabriel... "  
  
"Gabe, please. I hate Gabriel. "  
  
Sam smiles a bit.  
  
"Gabe. Thank you but you don't have to do this, really. "  
  
"I know. But I want to. "  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I'm bored. And you need a place to stay for a few hours, right?. "  
  
Sam doesn't know what to say.  
  
So he just nods.  
  
"Ok, fine. I'll take that coffee. "  
  
"Great. Let's go. "  
  
Sam follows him.

**to be continued...**


	3. You took my heart and you held it in your mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sex and mild violence in this chapter.  
> 2\. The title comes from the song "Sweet nothing" by Calvin Harris feat. Florence Welch.

**Chapter 3  
You took my heart and you held it in your mouth**

The days go by slowly, all the same, in a steady and boring routine that would almost be comforting if it wasn't the result of his fight with Sam: instead, it feels dull and hurts.  
  
Dean spends his time working on Cas's house like putting it back in a decent shape as fast as he can has become a mission for him.  
  
Every morning he wakes up early, has a fast and simple breakfast, usually alone, and then keeps fixing and repairing the place until it gets dark.  
  
Dean uses this job to silence his loud thoughts, to keep them in the farthest corner of his mind, to drown them in a tired body and sore muscles.  
  
He doesn't want to think about Sam, because he's not ready to face his guilt, his resentment and all those unspoken things that keep building an higher and thicker wall between him and his brother.  
  
He needs time, needs space, his mind focused on something he can manage and control: it's his way of coping with problems.  
  
But that's not the only reason he's putting so much effort in the task.  
  
He can tell the weather is changing: the days are getting shorter, the wind colder and and the sun isn't shining as hot and bright a it did before.  
  
Summer is almost over and, even if this October is still pleasantly warm, Dean can tell that winter is coming.  
  
He promised Cas he'd fix his place as good as he could before it started being really cold.  
  
And he wants to do at least that right, since he's screwing up pretty much everything else.  
  
Like he can sense that, while busy tiring himself to the point of almost fainting on the bed at night, he still doesn't want to be alone, Cas starts spending more and more time with him.  
  
Sam pretty much ignores him and, honestly, Dean can't blame him since he's basically doing the same thing.  
  
His brother goes out early, comes back late and, even when they're in the same room, he pretends he's not there.  
  
He keeps being nice and polite to Cas, because that's how Sam works, he can't be mad at people who did nothing to him, even though Cas is obviously close to Dean, but is as cold as ice to him.  
  
And Dean finds himself almost relieved by the situation.  
  
He wants to fix things with him, but right now he just doesn't know how and there's no point in screwing everything up more.  
  
And in all this fucking mess, Cas's presence is a nice, sweet comfort.  
  
They don't talk much, as usual, but even just the fact that Cas is there with him helps.  
  
Because, and Dean doesn't even know how he does that, he seems to be able to make him feel better with a smile, a look, a word.  
  
It's like they have known each other for years and not for less then two weeks: Cas can, somehow, read inside him and find the right spots to press to ease the burden on his shoulders.  
  
So he sits on the stairs, a cigarette between his lips and a beer at hand, and watches him; sometimes he turns the radio on and hums in time with the song he knows, usually, and probably on purpose, out of key to make him laugh.  
  
For the next three days after the fight, Cas is the only person he talks to and Dean thinks it's weird that he likes it this way, that he likes how easy it is to be with him, that there are no buried and neglected issues or grunges between them. Cas, for some reason he doesn't understand and probably won't have the time to try to understand, likes this, him, too: he looks better, his face is brighter, his eyes aren't as tired and sad as they were before.  
  
"Maybe he just needed company, someone to be with without having to answer and ask questions. That's why he put's up with me. Maybe he needs someone to worry about so he doesn't have to worry about himself."  
  
Dean keeps working with Cas almost always around him, like a soft, friendly and quiet shadow that follows him around, that watches over him to make him realize he's not alone. It makes it better, really, and he feels grateful: but doesn't mention it, not really, because he sucks at asking people for help and at saying thank you.  
  
But, somehow, he can tell that Cas knows, that he can find the answers he's looking for without having to ask any question. And this, for Dean, is the best thing the other man could do for him.

 

"Hey. "  
  
Dean looks up from his plate and finds Sam standing in front of him, his face blank, hands tucked in his pockets: he doesn't look particularly happy about being there, but Dean tries not to think about it, tries to focus on what really matters.  
  
That he's talking to him, which, after almost four days of complete silence, is already something.  
  
Makes him realize how fucking bad he missed hearing his brother's voice, being able to just sit next to him and start talking about anything, even the most stupid thing, and pretty just spending time together.  
  
"Hey. "  
  
"Can I sit?"  
  
"Sure, of course you can. "  
  
Sam pours himself some beer, gulps it down in one shot and then goes back at staring at him: he looks so tired and sad and it makes his heart hurt, because he's the cause of it, knows it, but doesn't know what to say or what to do to fix things.  
  
Dean can barely swallow one last bit of food without washing it down with the beer and can't bear to look straight at Sam; he's a coward and knows it perfectly, but at the same time can't help it.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Probably upstairs getting stoned... "  
  
Of course Sam doesn't laugh at the joke.  
  
"So. Wanna talk?"  
  
Dean nods, but for a while neither of them talks.  
  
"Missed you, Sammy. "  
  
Those words surprise him as much as they surprise Sam, who clearly wasn't expecting him to be the one to start the conversation.  
  
"You did?"  
  
His voice is so flat, unemotional and he clearly doesn't believe him.  
  
"Of course I did! How can you... "  
  
"How can I think that you didn't?! Oh well, I don't know Dean! Maybe because you made no fucking effort of telling me that or that you were sorry or even just of talking to me these past few days?!"  
  
Dean loudly inhales and remains silent, because he knows that everything he's going to say will only upset Sam more: so he just waits and hopes for the best, even though he learned that hoping is never a smart thing to do.  
  
Especially for people like him.  
  
"You're not going to say anything?!"  
  
"What you want me to say, Sam? Mh? What?!"  
  
"I don't know, Dean! Something! Anything! Help me here, because... really... I..."  
  
Sam shakes his head and takes it between his hands, rubbing his temples.  
  
"I'm trying here, Dean. I'm trying so, so fucking hard to reach you, to understand you, but you just keep pushing me away, you shut me out. You don't want me to see you, don't want my help and I just... God... I don't know what to do!"  
  
Dean can't look at him, can't handle that pained expression on his face and doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do: it all sucks so fucking much, he wishes he could just snap his fingers and make it all go away.  
  
But of course it's not that easy, nothing is easy for him, not even doing something simple like talking to his brother.  
  
"Just... just talk to me, Dean. We can't go on like this, with all these secrets, all these lies, all this... repressed issues and grunges between us. It's never going to work if we aren't honest with each other, we are just going to keep hurting and fighting and nothing will ever change. And I can't handle that. You're my brother, Dean, I love you and I know you're suffering for dad, I know you're still angry at me because I left but... "  
  
Sam stops talking for a moment to take a deep breath a drink some water, gulping it like he hasn't drink in years and he's so thirsty he's dying.  
  
"But I can't be the only one trying. I need you to try too. I'm hurting too, Dean. You're not the only one who lost a father. "  
  
Dean looks at him for a while, his words echoing in his mind.  
  
"I love you too, Sammy. You that, you know I'd do anything for you. But I was so wounded and disappointed when you left, so angry at you. I think I even hated you for a while because I did everything and more for you, I was always there when you needed me and then you were gone and I was alone... It was so unfair, you abandoned me when I'd never even thought about doing that to you. "  
  
They look at each other for a while, Sam's eyes slightly humid with sadness and regret; Dean doesn't even want to think about what his brother can read in his.  
  
"Maybe one day you'll understand why I left, why I had to leave, why it was so important for me. Maybe you'll see what I was looking for, why I had to go away to try to find it. I don't regret leaving, Dean. I regret hurting you and dad, but going away was the right thing for me to do at that time. I had to and if you can't get over it... well, I'm sorry, but I'll not apologize for that, for a choice I still believe was right. "  
  
"Fair enough, Sammy. "  
  
"I need to know if you can at least try to get over that, that we'll try to get a fresh start, a real one this time. And that you'll respect my choices even when you don't approve them. I need this, Dean. We need this, we need to bury the past behind us and look at the future... "  
  
Dean lights a cigarette, avoiding looking in his brother's eyes and smokes for a couple of minutes in silence.  
  
"I suppose I can trying doing that, Sammy. I can't promise you anything more but... but I'll try. "  
  
A smile creeps on Sam's face and that soft change seems to lift the burden the weights on his heart at least a bit; allows Dean to breath easily again.  
  
"Fair enough, Dean "  
  
Dean knows that this doesn't fix anything, not really, that there are still too many things buried between them that they'll have to face eventually.  
  
But for now it's a start.

 

"Are you and Sam ok now?"  
  
Dean and Cas are sitting on the porch, the day after he and Sam made up, eating a sandwich and drinking the lemonade Anna made for them.  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
"You two talked last night. "  
  
"You spied us?"  
  
Cas smiles, his mouth still half full.  
  
"No, don't worry, I'm not that bad. I just heard your voices, but didn't listen, I swear. "  
  
Dean nods, pouring himself another glass of the beverage and then starts searching his pockets to find the lighter.  
  
"Here, let me help you. "  
  
Cas puts a cigarette between his lips and then lights it with his own, smiling at him; Dean inhales the smoke and then lets it out almost on the other man's face.  
  
It sends a dangerous shiver down his spine, to be so close to Cas, makes him think things he really, really shouldn't think about: like how good that mouth would feel on his own, those long fingers on his skin, how beautiful those eyes would look, filled with lust and desire... but thankfully Cas moves away quickly after that, interrupting his thoughts.  
  
Dean clears his throat.  
  
"Thanks. "  
  
"Don't mention it. "  
  
Dean smokes in silence for a minute or so, Cas's eyes fixed on his face, a sultry and playful smile in his eyes, like he's looking at something, someone, he's greatly enjoying admiring.  
  
"Well, yeah... I think we are sort of ok now. "  
  
"I'm glad, I hated all that tension. Don't like conflicts. "  
  
"Sorry we caught you in the middle. "  
  
Cas's knee brushes against his, a soft and pleasant contact as he tilts his head in his direction and shrugs.  
  
"It's fine, I didn't mind. I'm used to brothers fighting more than you can imagine. And let me tell you: that little row you and Sam had... is fucking nothing compared to the ones my brothers used to have. "  
  
"What the fuck? Was your family in the mafia or something?"  
  
Cas looks confused.  
  
"I'm not sure I know what mafia means... "  
  
Dean's eyes wide in surprised and disbelief.  
  
"Dude, you must be fucking wasted not to know what the mafia is! Haven't you seen "The Godfather"? Or, I don't know, went to school? God, how fucking gone are you?!"  
  
Realization and, almost, relief appears on his face, when Cas seems to finally get what Dean is talking about.  
  
"Right, right! We watched that movie! Gabriel fucking loved it, kept reciting the lines for weeks. It was terrible. And... yeah, you won't believe but that really is pretty much how my family is. A big, bad and bloody mess. "  
  
"Wow, no shit?"  
  
Cas shakes his head.  
  
"One hundred percent accurate. "  
  
"I assume you, Anna and Gabriel are the good ones?"  
  
The man lets out an amused sigh.  
  
"Kinda, yeah. "  
  
"Still, I'd cut down with the drugs, buddy. "  
  
His laugh sounds louder than it really is to his hears, the expression on his face is so relaxed and so comfortable, Dean can live with those little weird moments if it means he gets to see it more often.  
  
Because Cas looks... beautiful like that, his eyes bright and his mouth open in a big, happy smile.  
  
"Yeah, Anna keeps telling me the same thing. "  
  
"She ain't doing a great job then. "  
  
"No, not really, to be honest. Sometimes I zone out when she speaks... You won't tell her right?"  
  
"Nah, don't worry.  
  
Cas stares at him with an unusual light in his eyes, then suddenly reaches out for him, almost crawling in his lap, and breaths a puff of smoke on his face, so close to his lips that Dean can almost feel their heat on his skin.  
  
"But maybe you can be more... persuasive than she is... "  
  
Dean swallows, looking straight into the others eyes, fighting to impulse of licking his lips and putting his hands on Cas's hips to bring him closer.  
  
"Yeah? How?"  
  
"Mmh... don't know yet. Let me think about it for a while, I'll let you know. "  
  
"Can't wait to be honest... "  
  
Cas backs off; just in time, because Sam appears suddenly from nowhere, startling them both.  
  
"Hey guys, I hope I'm not... interrupting anything. "  
  
He looks at Dean with a funny expression on his face, like he's wondering what the hell is going on between his brother and the other man, but saying nothing.  
  
"Of course not, Sam. Actually, I was just... going back inside to, you know, do stuff. I'll leave you two alone. "  
  
Cas leaves and when Dean looks at Sam again, his brother is grinning, obviously enjoying the teasing a lot.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing, Dean. Really... I was just noticing how close you and Cas are. "  
  
"So I can't say anything about you basically living at Anna's but you can joke on me and Cas all you want?!"  
  
"I wasn't saying anything! Just pointing it out. I'm happy you two are friends, really. He's a good guy. "  
  
"He is and yes, we are friends. Just friends. "  
  
"Fine. Let's move on. I think I got something. "  
  
"About?"  
  
Sam looks around like he's afraid someone may be listening to them and also lowers his voice.  
  
"Today Sheriff Henricksen came to the shop ok? Well, he was a bit shocked, so I asked him what was wrong, offered him some coffee... "  
  
"Yeah, yeah Sammy, cut it out, I need to get back to work. "  
  
Sam laugh, like he's not sure what Dean means exactly what he says work, pissing him off even more.  
  
"So? The cat ate your tongue?"  
  
"Wow, you sensitive about that, Dean?"  
  
"Piss off. "  
  
"Ok, let's go back to the important things: so today he got a report from a town an hour away from here about unusual deaths: two boys killed in two day. They were torn to pieces and their hearts were missing. They suspect some kind of rabid wild animal and are warning the whole county. "  
  
"Missing hearts? A werewolf?"  
  
"I think so too. "  
  
"But only two victims? That sounds weird to me. "  
  
"Maybe he ain't local and like us just got here recently. Wanna go check it out? "  
  
Dean doesn't say anything, but looks away from Sam.  
  
"What's wrong, Dean?"  
  
"You sure you wanna do this?"  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
"One thing is being back in the family, another is starting hunting again. You haven't done it in... how long? Four years?"  
  
"Yeah, but... "  
  
"But, Sammy, that's a long time and you know it. "  
  
Sam loudly inhales.  
  
"So what, you don't trust me? You think I'm rusty?"  
  
"Of course you're rusty, but that's not the problem: I know you'd still have my back no matter how long it has been, no matter what happens. But if it's really a werewolf we're dealing with, we'll have to kill him or her. Are you sure you wanna do it? That you'll handle it?"  
  
Sam doesn't say anything, but the confidence on his face waves down; Dean finishes the last glass of lemonade and waits for him to speak, doesn't force him or tries to influence him.  
  
"Sammy, you know I'd trust you with my life. But I don't want you to do this just because you think that would help me get over the fact that you left or that would make me realize that nothing has changed. Because things changed and we can't go back no matter what we do. "  
  
"I know that, Dean and that's not why I wanna go hunting: this thing is killing people and it needs to be stopped. That's the only reason why I wanna do this. And yes I know it'll be bloody and we'll have to kill him or her, but I'm ready, Dean. "  
  
"You sure? You really sure?"  
  
Sam nods.  
  
"I am. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and puts an hand on his brother's shoulder, gently squeezing it.  
  
"Ok then, Sammy. Let's go gank that son of a bitch. "  
  
Sam laughs for the first time in what seemed to be ages.  
  
"I missed hearing you saying that, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, it's one of my best lines. "  
  
"Thank you. "  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For trusting me. "  
  
Dean returns the smile.

 

It feels good, going back to their real job, to the hunting and all the things that come with it: the thrill that precedes the actual mission, the investigations, the questions, the lies, even the million dangers, Dean missed them all.  
  
"Wow, where are you going dressed like that? You look like a model!"  
  
Cas whistles in appreciation at him when he comes down for breakfast in his FBI suit: he considered changing on the road, like Sam suggested, but in the end the idea of seeing how the man would have reacted to it was too interesting and fun to pass.  
  
And the look on his face totally makes it worth it.  
  
"Me and Sammy are going to the bank, the sheriff told us there is one in the next city. "  
  
Cas keeps staring at him for a few seconds, his mouth slightly open, his eyes exploring his body and he only comes back to his senses when Sam clears his throat.  
  
"Yeah, right. The bank. Funny that after all that happened in the last year, there are still banks and money and all that crap. You'd think those would be the first things to go... but I guess people are too used to them by now, after so many centuries of giving them pretty much for granted. You have such an hard time when it comes to give up progress... "  
  
"Wow, you're incredibly deep and sober this morning, Cas. "  
  
"I have my moments. "  
  
Cas laugh, clearly pleased with himself: sometimes he looks and sounds just like a child, one of those kids that try their best to impress the people around them, but that at the same time, hide their true face, their real personality.  
  
There are times when Cas looks incredibly simple to Dean, when he thinks he can read inside him like an open book.  
  
But in the end, it's Cas who knows about Dean a lot more things than he knows about him: he keeps everything for himself and he rarely manages to get real informations about him and about his past.  
  
Dean lets it go, tells himself that he can think about that another time, when he'll have time; now he just nods to Cas and hints a smile.  
  
"You done, Sammy?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm ok. "  
  
"Can we get you something in town?"  
  
Cas thinks about it for a couple of seconds, then smiles at Dean.  
  
"A bottle of absinthe, if you can find it. I... seems to have misplaced my last one and can't find it anymore. "  
  
Dean looks away, while Cas just leaves the room, still smiling: Sam is sporting his most annoying and stupid look, when he turns around to face him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did I miss something? Was there an inside joke between you two I wasn't intended to catch?"  
  
"Let's go before I punch you in the face, Sammy. "  
  
Sam keeps looking at him in a funny way for the rest of the morning.

 

The investigations are quick and surprisingly easy: Dean is more worried than usual about the locals questioning their identities and blowing up their covers; FBI agents aren't a common sight anymore, especially in times like these.  
  
But it all goes smoothly in the end: the sheriff isn't exactly smart and after a quick look at their badges and a few routine questions, he cooperates without thinking about them too much; a few people stare at them, maybe trying to figure out what the hell could two FBI agents be doing in their town, but they're mostly too scared to ask anything or to approach.  
  
The bodies of the two kids are already gone, there was no reason from keeping the families from burying them, but the pictures the sheriff took are good enough to prove their theories.  
  
"Definitely a werewolf. "  
  
"Poor bastard, just happened to be too close to two hunters who are particularly pissed at werewolves. "  
  
Sam nods, a sad looks that mirror his own appearing on his face.  
  
"You thinking about mom?"  
  
"I always think about mom when we gank one of these sons of a bitch, Sam. I feel like honoring her memory. She was a damn good huntress and she knew the risks of the job. She died fighting, doing the right thing. "  
  
"I'm afraid dad didn't think about it this way. "  
  
"Well, dad died too in the end. Let's go. "  
  
Finding a possible suspect proves to be a little harder than they thought and they spend most of the day asking questions, driving around in Anna's borrowed car that feels so wrong, because it doesn't belong on the field with them.  
  
It's not part of the job, but just a mindless and aseptic tool that carries no memories and gives him no sense of protection and safety.  
  
Dean can't help but thinking about all their hunts when they were kids, after Mary's death and the ones where he was alone with his father: the Impala was one of the few certainties of his life and the only place he could really call home.  
  
And now even that is missing.  
  
It doesn't feel right, not at all: Dean wonders if Sam feels the same: but it doesn't look like he does from the way he just focuses on rereading his notes, oblivious of anything else.  
  
So he doesn't mention it; doesn't say anything at all.

 

Their suspect is a man called Stuart Freeman, who arrived in town just a couple of days before the first murder: they manage to take a decent look at him, even thought he basically lives barricaded into his tiny hotel room.  
  
"So how you wanna play this?"  
  
"We go back home for tonight, plan everything out and then we come back to kill the bastard in a couple of days. "  
  
"Just like dad used to. "  
  
"Yeah, exactly. "  
  
"What if he decided to run before we can get him?"  
  
Dean puts his binoculars away.  
  
"Well then he's one lucky son of a bitch. "  
  
"You don't plan to go after him?"  
  
"I don't plan to give him a chance to run. "

 

Dean is staring at his father's gun: it's perfectly polished, in pristine condition, kept like a reliquary: it's cold against the skin of his hand when he takes it, heavy but not too heavy, deadly but subtle.  
  
His dad never liked shotguns or big weapons, he thought they were too loud and messy: John Winchester preferred the easily and familiar grip of a Colt and relying on his accuracy instead of the firepower.  
  
"All you need is one clean shot, Dean. It doesn't matter what you're using. All you need is that one shot and they're done for. No need to make a mess if there's no reason to. "  
  
The house is as quiet as a graveyard: Sam is sleeping, Cas is in his room doing God only knows what and Dean keeps staring at his father's gun, loaded with silver bullets, wondering what he's going to do.  
  
Because he's been thinking and thinking about one thing, weighting it in his head, examining it from all the possible sides for hours, since they came back, but still hasn't decide anything.  
  
Until his father's voice starts echoing in his mind again, loud and clear.  
  
"Never wait too long, Dean. They're smart, it's like they can smell us, that they feel us. Do it as quickly as you can. And if you have a partner, but you're not sure you can trust him... just leave him behind. The job comes first. Always. "  
  
He trusts Sam, he really, really does.  
  
This has nothing to do with trusting or not trusting him.  
  
Or so he keeps telling himself while he packs the bag, walks all the way to Gabriel's garage, takes the Impala and goes hunting alone.  
  
This has nothing to do with trust.  
  
He just can't wait.

 

The light is so strong, too strong, has it always been this strong? Maybe someone changed it because that thing is fucking blinding him and he doesn't remember it being like this before, so white, raw and cruel, hurting his eyes, making his head almost explode with pain.  
  
Dean tries to open the sink, but his hands are wet and slippery because of the blood and he has an hard time doing it.  
  
God, the blood, there's so much blood, everything is white and red, white pain in his head, red paint everywhere else.  
  
He feels like he's going to be sick, his back is hurting and fuck the blood is everywhere, how can it be everywhere, where all this blood comes from, Dean feels so confused, so tired and everything keeps being so goddammit white God the light...  
  
He remembers the hunt, remember the werewolf knocking the gun away from his hands, throwing him hard against then side of the Impala...  
  
Remembers the man struggling under his body while he stabbed him with the silver knife, remembers the hot, red, wet blood spreading under his hands...  
  
Remembers driving back home and fuck he felt just fine really, there wasn't anything wrong with him, but now that damn light... that fucking light... everything is spinning around him and Dean doesn't know what the fuck he's going to do if things don't stop spinning... oh God his head hurts so much...  
  
Then he suddenly thinks about the body: what he did with the body? He can't remember, can't focus on anything...  
  
"What the fuck happened here?!"  
  
There's someone else in the room with him: he's talking, but Dean has an hard time understanding what he's saying.  
  
The words are like a buzz in his ears, a white noise that only makes his raging headache hurt more and more, that just adds another problem to the ones that are already confusing and overwhelming him.  
  
With what feels like an incredible effort, he manages to turn his face towards the door: Cas is on the doorstep, looking at him with a worried, confused and shocked look on his face.  
  
Dean tries to say something, but his voice isn't coming out and then his legs give up and he's falling: but he doesn't hit the floor because Cas catches him, holds and straightens him.  
  
"Dean, what the fuck happened? Are you ok?"  
  
His body is trapped between Cas's and the wall and it feels so warm and pleasant against him, so good he almost wants to fall asleep there, with Cas's arms around him, pressed against the other man's body, so close he can hear his heartbeat.  
  
He puts the head on Cas's shoulder, inhales his scent, closes his eyes and doesn't move for a while: he just stays there, quietly breathing, the deafening noise of his own blood pulsing in his ears slowly diminishing, the pains in his head calming.  
  
Dean can feel the nervous stiffness in Cas's body, but the man doesn't try to push him away, keeps holding him, not even speaking for what look like hours, but must be only a few minutes.  
  
"Dean? Are you ok?"  
  
His voice is soft again his ear, a quiet whisper that gets over the pain, the confusion, the tiredness and sends a shiver across his body.  
  
Dean forces himself to leave the grip he has on Cas's arms and rests his body against the wall, keeping his eyes closed for a few more seconds, before opening them: his vision is almost back to normal now and the world isn't spinning anymore: it's better, so much better, he can think again, the blinding light goes back to being a simple bulb and everything around him slowly reacquires its natural colors.  
  
He looks at Cas, stares at his worried face, at the blood stains he left on his shirt where he grabbed him and, for reasons he doesn’t even want to question, he just can't help but thinking about how beautiful he looks even like this: he must be so fucking gone to focus on shit like that in this moment.  
  
Dean forces himself to take a deep breath and to take his mind somewhere else.  
  
"No, I'm not ok, you stupid son of a bitch. "  
  
Cas breathes in relief, a little smile appearing on his lips.  
  
"Well, I think this proves that at least you're not going to die on me. Good. Now... what the fuck happened to you?! What the fuck is all this blood?!"  
  
Dean has to take another deep breath before he can answer.  
  
"I... I went hunting... "  
  
"In the middle of the fucking night?!  
  
"It's a long story... "  
  
"Well, before I hear that, you need to... fuck, I have no idea what you need. A shower maybe? Some water? Yeah, water should be good. And I'll go call Sam... "  
  
Dean grabs his arm again, hard, his grip so strong it startles Cas, who for a split second looks almost scared by the look on his face.  
  
"Don't... don't you fucking dare calling him, all right?! Leave him out of this. If you help me... I'll tell you everything, but don't call Sam, ok? No matter what! Please! "  
  
"Why? I'm sure he'd be more useful than me. "  
  
"I have my reasons! Just... Just do what I say, please?"  
  
Cas looks at him unsure for a moment, torn between what he thinks would be best thing to do and what Dean wants, weighting the possibilities and trying to decide what he should do.  
  
Dean gives him an expectant look and in the end Cas nods.  
  
"Ok, fine. I'll trust you with this. God, I fucking hope you're not going to make me regret this and that I won't end up in jail or executed because of you, cause I'm far too pretty for either of those options. Damn you! "  
  
He laughs softly.  
  
"I'm gonna get you some water and then I'll take you upstairs so you can take a shower. Try not to get more blood around, ok?"  
  
Dean nods and then they look at each other for a few seconds, their eyes locked and their bodies still so close they can feel each others heat.  
  
Dean's mind wanders again in places he usually wouldn't allow it to go; but right now he can't fight against it, he's not strong enough to control his thoughts: he imagines grabbing Cas, kissing him hard until he'll start moaning, taking his shirt off and touching him with his still soiled hands, smearing blood all over that pale skin... It's disturbing and arousing at the same time, a dangerous mixture of reality and fantasy that is giving him the most awkward and wrong erection of all time.  
  
"It's the adrenaline"he tells himself, "I wouldn't be thinking this if it wasn't because of it. It's just a physical reaction. It means nothing."  
  
Cas moves away from his body, slowly and carefully, like he's afraid he could collapse again: then starts walking towards the door.  
  
"Cas... "  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Thank you. "  
  
He smiles.  
  
"You're welcome. "

 

The shower feels glorious, the hot waters runs all over his body, cleaning it and almost literally bringing him back to life, massaging his sore muscles, washing away all the blood and the dirt.  
  
He feels so much better after, the headache completely gone, his mind clear and sober again: the wound on his back still hurts, but thankfully it ain't bleeding anymore.  
  
Now Dean can clearly think about what happened, the memories are no longer confused and his brain is cooperating again: he caught the werewolf when he was about to leave the town, followed him then fought and killed him.  
  
He buried his body somewhere and burnt his things: at least, hopefully and unless his bad luck hits again, he isn't going to have problems with the authorities: pleased with himself, he goes to his room.  
  
Cas is sitting on his bed when he enters only wearing his pants and barefoot: the man briefly stares at his face, then at his naked chest for a few seconds, before looking away.  
  
"Feeling better?"  
  
"Hell, yeah, that shower was a blessing, really. "  
  
"You certainly look well, at least decently and alive. Everything ok? Nothing broken?"  
  
Dean shakes his head, still standing in front of the door and trying not think about how this situation would look on the outside: because he's half naked and another man is sitting on his bad, stealing glances at him when he think he's not looking.  
  
He's so fucking glad Sam can't see them now or he'll never hear the end of it.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine overall. I just... need some help with this scratch I have on my back... "  
  
"Of course. Thought you may need them, so I went looking for some bandages and... well, vodka. Sorry, couldn't find anything else you could use as disinfectant. Plus, I don't know you but after tonight I need to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol. "  
  
Dean laughs, sitting next to him and grabbing the bottle.  
  
"You and me both, buddy. "  
  
The bottle is almost empty when Cas finishes patching him, cleaning his hands on a towel and drinking a long sip of vodka after.  
  
"Fuck, this shit is strong... "  
  
"It really is. I don't even wanna know how you get these things, especially if they, once again, involve your brother. "  
  
Cas laugh and keeps staring at him while he puts a shirt on and then tries to find a comfortable position on the bed.  
  
"I must've left a mess downstairs... "  
  
"Don't worry, I mostly cleaned up while you were showering. "  
  
"Wow. Efficient. But didn't think about changing your shirt?"  
  
He seems to notice the blood stains just now, an hilarious expression on his face.  
  
"Oh. Right. I'll take care of this too. You should also give me your dirty clothes. "  
  
"Why, you gonna wash them for me?"  
  
"More like burning them. "  
  
They both laugh, then Cas becomes suddenly serious.  
  
"So what did you do? And don't give me that hunting crap, cause I'm not an idiot, Dean. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath, collects the bottle from the other man's hands and drinks, just delay the confrontation.  
  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you the truth. "  
  
Cas inhales deeply and rolls his eyes.  
  
"Dean, while not drunk yet, which is a shame, I'm intoxicated enough to believe in... well... pretty much everything right now. So go ahead. "  
  
He stares at him, at the subtle smile on his face and wonders if he really wants to wipe it away: he could easily lie, he's so fucking good at finding good excuses, at hiding things.  
  
And Cas doesn't know him well enough, probably, to realize that he isn't telling the truth and after all, why would he care?  
  
And why Dean finds it so hard to lie at him when he can fool everyone else without a second though; hell he can even convince Sam, when he really wants to.  
  
"I went hunting, really... just not animals. "  
  
The words come out on their own, like they have always been there, waiting to be spoken, startling even him, because one second he was wondering about lying to Cas and the next he was letting the truth come out almost without him realizing it.  
  
Cas doesn't say anything for a moment, just stares at him with increasing worry growing in his expression.  
  
"What are you, a serial killer? One of those crazy psychopath who hunt people?!"  
  
Dean manages to shake his head.  
  
"No, I don't hunt people, not... really however. I hunt monsters. "  
  
Dean spits it out before his brain tells him that it's a bad idea and it manages to stop him, that it's the stupidest idea he ever, ever had and God, Cas is going to laugh it off or start screaming at him or just run out of the room.  
  
But he doesn't.  
  
Actually the weirdest part of the whole situation isn't that he's revealing one if his deepest secrets to a complete stranger, but that the complete strangers doesn't do any of the things he imagined him doing: doesn't scream, doesn't laugh, doesn't run away.  
  
He just stares at him, with a blank expression on his face.  
  
"You're a hunter. You hunt monsters. "  
  
Dean swallows hard, his eyes still locked to Cas's, examining his face to notice and change, any kind of reaction; but nothing happens.  
  
"Yeah. "  
  
"And you went hunting tonight. What did you kill?"  
  
"A werewolf. "  
  
Cas turns his face away from him, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath: Dean is already regretting everything and feels so fucking stupid for ruining what could possibly the first “normal relationship” he ever had in his life.  
  
How the fuck could he think this was going to be a good idea?!  
  
It's a miracle Cas isn't losing it already, that he's managing to remain calm: he just needs to send him away so he can go wake up Sam and they can leave before the man tells anyone...  
  
And then, Cas is quietly laughing, so softly that at first Dean can't hear him over the sound of his own thoughts, then louder, but not enough to be heard outside the room.  
  
"Are... are you ok?"  
  
Cas can't answer right away, because he's still laughing and needs a couple of minutes to calm down; then he looks at Dean again, his eyes relaxed, almost pleased, but with a sort of new light in them, something different.  
  
He looks... like he knows perfectly what Dean is talking about and he appears perfectly ok, he isn't shocked at all by his revelation.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Wow, of all the people I could meet in this... place in the middle of nowhere... I meet an hunter. I can't fucking believe it. Karma indeed has a twisted sense of humor. "  
  
"What? I don't... you're not scared or... I don't know... going to freak out?"  
  
Cas's body is shaken by another laugh.  
  
"No, sorry to disappoint. I can pretend though, if you really want. "  
  
Dean is at complete loss of words and can't do nothing but staring at Cas wide eyed and confused: things weren't supposed to go this way, seriously.  
  
"Oh, come on, what's that face?! I can start screaming, very softly though, I don't want to wake up Sam, and faking terror if it makes you feel better. "  
  
Cas lights a cigarette and rests his back again the head of the bed, smiling at him.  
  
"But... How?!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"How can you be so... calm about it?"  
  
The man drinks the last sip of vodka, absently.  
  
"Mmh, lets just that I know more about the supernatural than you could imagine. "  
  
Dean frowns.  
  
"You're an hunter too?"  
  
"Not exactly. "  
  
"Then what?"  
  
Cas lowers his eyes and looks away, a shadows clouding his smile: he smokes in silence for a while, like he's remembering something from his past, something he clearly doesn't like or that, at least, makes him sad.  
  
Dean gets closer to him, but doesn't dare touching him or anything.  
  
"It's not important, really. Don't worry, by the way, your secret is safe with me, I'm not gonna tell anyone. "  
  
Dean stares numbly at him, genuinely surprised about the whole situation; but in the end he decides that all his questions can wait, that he doesn't want to test his luck any further for tonight.  
  
"Well, thank you, really. I was already expecting having to get ready to grab Sammy and running away in the middle of the night, to be honest. "  
  
A small smiles returns on Cas's face, but it's not as bright as it was before: it looks tired and Dean can feel that the hard night they shared it's starting to take a toll on both of them.  
  
"Good for you that you'll not have to, right?"  
  
"Definitely. "  
  
Cas keeps smocking in silence for a while, staring at his face, but like he's not really seeing him, his mind elsewhere, lost in thoughts hidden from Dean.  
  
"I... think I should let you rest now, you must be exhausted. "  
  
The moment Cas mentions it, tiredness seems to fall on his shoulders like an avalanche.  
  
"Yeah, I am. God, it has been a crazy night, uh? "  
  
The other man smiles softly at him and gets up, turns of his cigarette, then walking towards the door to leave.  
  
"Cas. "  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Thank you. For everything. Really. "  
  
The smile on Cas's face is like a soft caress on his face, seems to lift some of the tiredness he feels and makes his mouth curl into one to reciprocate; it's a smile of trust, one that Dean has rarely seen in his life.  
  
"Don't even mention it. Actually... thank you. "  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For telling me the truth. You seems to be the type of guy who knows how to lie pretty well. I'm glad you didn't feel like you had to do that with to me. "  
  
Then he just leaves and Dean is left staring at the door in silence for a while: he lays down on the bed, trying to think about the events of the night.  
  
But sleep claims him before he can even start.

 

Dean sleeps almost a whole day, not even getting up to eat or drink or piss: he just lays in bed, too exhausted to do anything else until late afternoon, when he emerges from his room refreshed and rested.  
  
It's when he sees Sam, sitting at the kitchen table and going through their father's diary, that he feel a powerful stab of pain and guilt in his chest that threatens to blow the bubble of almost"happiness he's in.  
  
He knows what he has to do: he can hear his brother's voice in his head, his words echoing in his mind.  
  
And Dean decides that Sam is right, that secrets and lies are not good for them, that they'll only destroy their still shaky, new found relationship: and Dean doesn't want to lose his brother, the only family he has left over something stupid like this.  
  
So he tells him the truth, tells him everything, only omitting his conversation with Cas, because there's no need to make him worry over this and because he trust the other man not to tell anyone about their secret.  
  
And to his surprise, Sam doesn't get angry, doesn't start shouting at him like he thought he would.  
  
He looks sad, disappointed, but, at the same time, relieved.  
  
"You should have trusted me, Dean. God, you almost got yourself killed out there!"  
  
"I know, I know... "  
  
"You're such a stupid son of a bitch sometimes. Just... just like dad was. God, really, if you do something like that again, I'm fucking done with you! "  
  
Dean nods and takes everything without replying, just waiting for Sam to finish.  
  
"But I'm glad you told me the truth, that you didn't try to lie to me or did some stupid crap. I... I should be so fucking pissed at you right now but, I'm sort of proud. Means you're growing up. Maybe. "  
  
"Oh, piss off, bitch. "  
  
Sam laughs.  
  
"Jerk. "  
  
They look at each other, both relaxed.  
  
"But, seriously Dean. Don't ever do it again. "  
  
"Don't worry, Sam. I learned my lesson. "  
  
His brother nods.  
  
"I hope so. "

 

Sometimes, when Dean wakes up in the middle of the night and wanders around the house, complete silence around him, he could swear he can hear whispers, soft and shy, coming from within the walls: he checked the whole place with the EMF meter and didn't find anything, not even a small disturbance, a little peak, nothing at all.  
  
Just old, dusty corners, locked doors and forgotten rooms.  
  
So he starts thinking that it may be just his wrecked nerves playing tricks on him, making him hear things that aren't real, murmurs that are just illusion created by his tired mind: he's so used to the mysterious and the unusual that his brain apparently has to fabricate some in order to keep him functioning correctly.  
  
Dean sighs.  
  
He's standing in the empty kitchen, staring at the road from the window, a glass in his hand: he's barefoot and the floor is cold again his skin, but he doesn't move or does anything but staying there in the dark, breathing as softly as he can, trying to catch even the smallest sound.  
  
But there's nothing to hear, no voices in the dark who were waiting especially for him to come so they could breathe their twisted secrets in his ears: there's only the silence, the darkness and the empty room that surrounds him.  
  
Nothing else.  
  
Sometimes there's no mystery to uncover, nothing to fight against: just an hold house that creaks and moans because of the years it has endured.  
  
He takes a deep breath, the cold air of the night filling his lungs, closes his eyes and lets his mind wander: his body still feels sore from the hunt, especially since he started working again on Cas's place almost immediately after it.  
  
Dean thinks about all the things that happened to him since he and Sam arrived there: meeting new people, fighting and then somehow reconciling with his brother, finally getting to do some work that doesn't involve people ending up dead in a alley or desecrating graves.  
  
His old life, the family business, comes back haunting him in his thoughts and in his dreams, of course, but he can manage it good enough for now.  
  
And then there's Cas: he's not sure he's managing him as well; he has so many emotions and feelings, often contradictory and confused, towards him and has no idea where to start to understand them; sometimes he thinks he's getting too close to him and wants to push him away like he always does.  
  
It wouldn't even be that hard, because rejecting people is one of the things he's better at.  
  
And then there are moments when he wants to grab Cas, hold him tight and...  
  
Dean opens his eyes, looks at his tired reflection in the window for a few seconds, before leaving the glass in the sink and turning around to go back to his room.  
  
That's when he notices Cas staring at him, his back against the wall in front of him, a subtle something that looks like a smile, but Dead can't be sure of it, on his lips: the sudden apparition startles him so bad it makes his heart race furiously.  
  
"Jesus fucking Christ, Cas! You fucking scared the shit out of me!"  
  
"Sorry. "  
  
His voice is weirdly low, different from what he's used to hear from him.  
  
"What the hell are you doing there like a fucking creep?! God... "  
  
"Nothing, just staring at you. "  
  
Dean shakes his head and pours himself another glass of water, drinking it in one shot, before turning around again: Cas hasn't moved, his arms crossed in front of his chest.  
  
"Dude, do you even sleep sometimes?! Cause I swear... you're always around at night, it's fucking weird. "  
  
Dean moves towards him, until he's standing right in front of Cas: the smile on his face grows.  
  
"I do, thank you for worrying about me, Dean. It's just that sometimes I prefer not to. Or at least I usually drink a lot before trying. "  
  
"Why?"  
  
The man in front of him sights quietly.  
  
"Too many bad thoughts, too much guilt. You know, the usual shit. "  
  
Dean nods.  
  
"I see. Yeah, I get that. "  
  
Cas puts an hand on his shoulder and brings him a tiny bit closer to his body: Dean is staring at his mouth, at his face, at his eyes, doesn't really know where to look honestly, so he keeps switching his attention from one thing to the other.  
  
"You drunk?"  
  
"Always, you should know. "  
  
"Yeah, useless question, sorry. "  
  
The hand caresses him slowly, moving to his neck, then back to his shoulder and down on his arm, until they reach his hand and he can feel the fingers dancing on his skin.  
  
"You told Sam what happened, right?"  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
Cas shrugs.  
  
"Just a feeling. "  
  
"Yeah, I did. "  
  
"And how did it go?"  
  
"Fine, better than I expected actually. "  
  
Dean looks at him, at the way his cheeks lift when he smiles and his eyes light up.  
  
"I'm glad. "  
  
Cas has both his hands on his shoulders now, massages them softly, then suddenly grabs them hard and pulls him closer.  
  
"You know... you're so incredibly... cute, Dean. "  
  
Dean doesn't react at first because... because he doesn't know what to do or what to say, he just blurs out something unintelligible, that the other man doesn't hear anyway cause he keeps talking without waiting for him to reply.  
  
"No, that's not it, you're not cute. You're so incredibly hot, so fucking attractive, I swear to God, sometimes I close my eyes and oh, the things I think about... you have no idea... "  
  
He's whispering those words on his lips, his breath warm against them: Dean puts his hands on his hips, caresses him gently, enjoying that feeling, that contact and the thrill it gives him, flooding his mind until that's the only thing he can think about.  
  
"The things I wanna do to you, the things I want you to do to me... you don't even know... "  
  
Cas's body is pressed hard against his, his lips so close, those incredible eyes staring at him like they want to eat him alive: fuck, just fuck, it's so fucking intense Dean thinks his brain will just give up because it's already so much and they're not even touching properly, it's crazy.  
  
"Sometimes... sometimes I wonder. "  
  
"About what, Cas?"  
  
His voice sounds so shaky it makes him want to smite himself, but Cas just smiles.  
  
"I wonder how close I can get to you before you start burning me... "  
  
When their lips touch it's like a fucking electric shock running through his body and Dean is stunned for a moment, because the feelings is so strong it makes his legs weak. Then he's kissing him back, an hungry kiss, all teeth, tongue and open mouth; it feels so fucking good, it feels so great it almost hurts.  
  
Cas moans in his mouth, grabs his hair hard to pull him closer, so close there's almost no space between them anymore, just their bodies grinding against each other: his mouth tastes like alcohol, intoxicating, sweetish and delicious.  
  
Dean presses him against the wall so hard he's almost worried about hurting him, but the thought barely touches his mind, too busy to elaborate what's happening between them to care about anything that is not Cas's lips on his.  
  
They're both breathless when they part, Dean's hand finding Cas's face, caressing him before kissing him again, groaning softly when their lips meet.  
  
A kiss that was supposed to be slower, but that becomes hungry and desperate again, like they can't help it, because the electrical friction between them is too much and needs to get out someway, before it crushes them both with its weight.  
  
"Fuck... we should have done that before... Why the fuck we didn't do it earlier?! "  
  
Cas breaths the words against his neck, then kisses it, following the curve with his lips while his hands get under his shirt, caressing his skin, making him fucking moan and wish he could just make their clothes disappear, so he could have Cas's naked body in his arms and do him all the things he wants to do to him.  
  
"Cas...  
  
"Mmh?"  
  
"Shut the fuck up... "  
  
They kiss again, Dean's tongue touching Cas's, exploring his mouth; it feels so different from everything Dean has done before, with men and women: it feels more real, more intense, maybe because it has been so damn long since the last time or maybe because this is Cas and everything about him feels different.  
  
They're just kissing and he already has a painful erection in his pants; he's thinking about the best way to take Cas upstairs with him, when a noise suddenly startles them.  
  
Cas looks at him for a moment, his breath ragged, then looks at the ceiling, waiting, his hands still under Dean's shirt.  
  
"Sam... upstairs... "  
  
Right, Sam: he was so into what he and Cas were doing that he completely forgot about his brother; fuck it.  
  
Dean nods and groans in frustration, reluctant to let go, but at the same time aware that it's the only thing he can do.  
  
Silence fills the room again, the moment is broken and a slight awkwardness starts to creep in: Cas gently pulls him away, smiling, but nervous, patting his shoulder lightly like he wants to reassure him, but his touch feels so cold and so different from the one he felt before.  
  
It's like a different person is doing it.  
  
They look at each other for a moment, then Cas just leaves, without looking back or saying anything.  
  
Dean stares at his back, watches him leave and takes a deep breath: his body suddenly shivers in the night, hot as hell one moment and cold the next.  
  
He waits a few minutes to give Cas the time to lock himself in his own room, before going upstairs himself. He stop in front of Sam's room, opens the door and looks at him, sleeping peacefully.  
  
He should probably feel pissed at him for ruining everything, but doesn't: just smiles at his sleeping brother before closing the door without a sound.  
  
Cas's door is closed, of course: for a moment he hoped to find it slightly open, a signal only for him, but he knows that it was a long shot anyway.  
  
The cold, lonely room welcomes him again at last.  
  
Dean groans, an violent headache starting to circle his head painfully, and just falls on the bed, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible, but knowing that there's almost no chance that's gonna happen.  
  
Then he remembers the bottle of absinthe Cas left him that night: gets up again, uncovers him from the bag he left it and take a long sip.  
  
He feels a bit better after that.

 

They don't talk about the kiss the morning after, not even after Sam goes to work and they're left alone in the kitchen: Dean focuses on his breakfast and sometimes steals a few glances at Cas who is looking at him with an expectant look on his face.  
  
But Dean doesn't do or say anything that is not keeping his head low and eating in silence; he wishes he could be one of those guy who can easily fix awkward situations like this one in a blink, but he has no fucking clue, like really, and just feels like a complete dumbass because of it.  
  
"It's getting colder. "  
  
"What?"  
  
Cas is watching something outside the window now and Dean can't see his face, just the back of his neck.  
  
"The weather. It's getting colder. "  
  
"Yeah, well.. Winter is coming. Happens when summer is over. "  
  
"Didn't thought 'bout that. I forgot you have seasons. "  
  
"You... forgot?"  
  
He doesn't reply, doesn't even look away from whatever he's staring at.  
  
"I wonder how it'll feel... "  
  
"What?"  
  
Dean is increasingly more and more confused by Cas behavior and doesn't really know how to react at it or if keep talking to him is going to make any difference to the other man; and doesn't know if he should be grateful he's not trying to talk about the kiss or if he should feel slightly offended by the fact that Cas can just put it behind himself so fast.  
  
Or pretend that he did.  
  
"Never mind. It's nothing. "  
  
Cas simply gets up, puts the dirty dishes in the sinker and starts walking out of the room: but before he leaves, when he's right behind Dean, he softy caresses his shoulder.  
  
Dean looks up and catches him smiling softy, with a strange sort of sadness behind the smile.  
  
Then Cas leaves and he's alone with his thoughts that seem to weight on his shoulders in a much more heavier way and he fears they'll crush him for sure this time.  
  
The worst thing is that he wishes he could regret what happened with him last night, but he doesn't, not in the slightest.  
  
He wants more of it, wants to grab Cas and kiss him again, press their bodies together until the heat, the pressure and everything will be too much, take off his clothes and fuck him on the nearer horizontal surface available.  
  
It makes him feel weird, because it has been so long since he had these desires for somebody he could actually get and not just dream about in silence and shame, hating himself for every single one of those feelings, for those images that filled his mind.  
  
Feeling like he was wasting his time wishing for things he could not have, because people who live this life never get to be happy, to have something normal.  
  
And this is different, almost too easy; he's not used to easy, it usually means troubles.  
  
He sighs, feeling tired even thought he just woke up and fighting the impulse of just sending everything to fuck itself and going back to bed is surprisingly hard.  
  
But in the end, he gets up and goes to work: at least he will be too busy to think about anything.

 

They may not talk about what happened and Cas may be trying to avoiding being alone with him for too long and staying away from every chance of touching, but he surely seems not to be having any kind of issue at staring at him with that needy expression on his face that really, really drives Dean mad.  
  
He tries not to do it when Sam is around, but only when he's sure Dean is looking straight at him: he smiles, licks his lips, caresses Dean's body with his gaze and stares at him like he's some sort of delicious meal and he's starving.  
  
Dean tries to stay calm and ignore him, especially when Sammy is also there, but he's human too: so he plays along, returns the smiles and teases him only to regret it when Cas doesn't do anything more and he's left aroused and lonely.  
  
At night, he stares at the ceiling, unable to sleep, ends up closing his eyes and touching himself thinking about Cas, about his lips, the look in his eyes, the expression on his face, the weight of his body in his arms...  
  
He just can't stop thinking and thinking, dreams about it more than it's healthy.  
  
It's driving him mad and Dean has no way of stopping it.

 

"What are you doing?!"  
  
Cas looks up from the books he's pretending to read one evening, two days after the kiss, a nice smile forming on his lips when he noticed the frustrated expression on Dean's face.  
  
"What you're talking about, Dean?"  
  
"You know what. "  
  
His smile gets wider.  
  
"I suppose I do... but do you know, Dean?"  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
Cas sights.  
  
"I'm not doing anything but telling you that, if you wanted, things could get... interesting between us... "  
  
He gets up from the couch and puts an hand on the back of Dean's neck, pulling him closer.  
  
"But it's up to you whatever you want to take this chance or not. "  
  
Dean stares at him, swallows and tries to breath normally, obviously failing, especially when Cas kisses him, a fast and hard kiss that manages to make his blood burn with need.  
  
He doesn't say anything else after that.  
  
Dean almost wants to kiss him again, is craving to do it, but doesn't: he simply lets him go when Cas pulls away from him.  
  
The other man's face is glowing with amusement when he leaves.

 

They have dinner with Anna and Gabriel that night, all five crumpled in Cas's tiny kitchen: it's nice and relaxed, like Dean imagines a regular family dinner would be.  
  
He has distant memories of the ones their family used to have before his mother died and is almost sure that Sam doesn't remember any of them at all: gives him the chance to appreciate these small things more than Dean can, because at times like this he misses having a normal family the most.  
  
Miss having a real family he can call his own, instead of borrowing others.  
  
"Will you guys come to the feast tomorrow night?"  
  
Anna is looking at them, her face beaming with excitement.  
  
"Feast? What feast?"  
  
"Two town kids are getting married and there'll be a small party at the groom's house. You and Dean should come too! It'd be fun!"  
  
"Oh! That sounds, well, nice. "  
  
Cas snorts.  
  
"Of course you are, look at you, being all girly about marriage. "  
  
Anna rolls her eyes, ignores and drinks some of the water in her glass.  
  
"So, what you say? You two coming?"  
  
Sam looks at Dean.  
  
"I'd love to, really. Should be fun. Dean? What you say?"  
  
But Dean isn't looking at Sam, he's looking at Cas who knowingly grins at him, their eyes remain locked even when he empties what little wine is left in his glass: then he licks his lips and so many unspoken words pass between them in those few seconds that Dean can't help but laughing softly at the whole exchange, ignoring Sam funny expression.  
  
"Yeah, I mean, why not? We need to have some fun once in a while. You guys all coming?"  
  
"I'm not! With so many people around I may not be able to refrain myself from murdering them all... "  
  
Sam and Cas laugh at Gabriel jokes, while Anna looks annoyed.  
  
"You always spoil everything, Gabe, good job. Cas? You're in right?"  
  
"Of course, of course. Won't stay long, but how can I pass an opportunity to get free food and alcohol?"  
  
"You two are impossible!"  
  
"Yet you still love us, dear sister. "  
  
Anna shakes her head, but she's smiling again.  
  
"Great then, we're all going. It'll be fun, I'm sure! Can't wait!"  
  
Dean, still looking at Cas, grins.  
  
"I was just thinking the same thing. "

 

The party, as he expected, is boring as fuck: the newly wed couple is nice and cute, but they both sport dull smiles, an exceeding and fake kindness that makes Dean feel sick in his stomach.  
  
At least the food is good and the majority of the people there don't give a damn about him, except for a couple of glances and whispers at his address that he easily ignores, not even bothering looking at them.  
  
Sam is much more comfortable, waves at people with a genuine smile on his face, stops to say hello and easily fits in like he absolutely belongs there, that he's in his natural element.  
  
Dean would be jealous of him and would probably spend some thoughts about how dangerous that is, if he wasn't so busy looking for Cas and wondering what's going to happen.  
  
Because, clearly, this is an opportunity they shouldn't waste: Sam would probably stay there the whole evening with Anna and the house would be empty... He's sure Cas thought the same thing.  
  
Or at least he hopes so, because misunderstanding that would be more awkward than kissing and not talking about it.  
  
Dean runs an hand through his hair and breaths out a nervous sigh.  
  
When he finds him, Cas is alone in a corner of the room, absently looking at a dusty book shelf, a bottle of beer in his hand, the other in his pocket.  
  
"Enjoying yourself?"  
  
"At least they have alcohol. "  
  
Dean laughs, even though he knew that joke was coming; it's a way to let the tension out.  
  
"Yeah, I know how you feel. "  
  
"Not used to all this coziness, are you?"  
  
"Nope. That's definitely not something I'm used to. "  
  
They don't say anything for a while, just standing there next to each other in silence, not even bothering trying to find some conversation elements: they're both waiting for the other to make the first move, but neither seems to be able to.  
  
Until Cas yaws, obviously faking it.  
  
"I think I'll go home now, I'm so tired. Can't wait to... go to bed. "  
  
Dean stares right at his mouth as he says those words, trying to detect every change in tone, any hint, any hidden meaning and the way Cas smiles that secret grin that seems to be direct only to him.  
  
After he's gone, despite Anna's protests and pleads, he waits twenty more minutes before deciding to follow him.  
  
And those twenty minutes are without any doubt the longest of his life: a million doubts pass through his mind.  
  
He's suddenly scared he got everything wrong about Cas: what if he never meant it as an invitation? If he was just... fuck he doesn't even know, his brain just hurts for thinking so much.  
  
That's why in the end he just decides to take this chance and fuck everything and everyone.  
  
He excuses himself fast, ignores Sam questioning look and Anna whining and follows Cas home.

 

The house is dark and incredibly quiet when he goes in: all the lights are out and nothing moves.  
  
Dean can hear his own heartbeat in that stillness and can barely see where he's going in that darkness: then suddenly the small lap near the couch is switched on.  
  
And Cas is sitting there, partially hidden from his sight.  
  
"I was starting to fear you weren't going to come. "  
  
Cas gets up, slowly, his voice low, his eyes slightly unfocused.  
  
"Yeah, well... I'm here now. That's what matters, right?"  
  
He laughs, standing in front of him, his hands in his pockets again, like he doesn't know what to do with them: there's a nervous stiffness in Cas's body, like he's at the same time too excited about what's going to happen and scared about it.  
  
Dean gets it perfectly, since it's exactly what he's going through.  
  
"Of course it is. "  
  
They study each other for a while, their bodies so close and yet still separated by a space that neither of them has the guts to fill.  
  
Not yet, at least: there are still things that need to be said.  
  
"So... "  
  
"So. "  
  
Cas grins again, enjoying this more than he probably should, the teasing, making Dean feel so close to get what he's craving for and at the same time not close enough.  
  
A clever and cruel game that makes Dean moan softly under his breath.  
  
"I think there are three possible outcomes of this extremely funny and interesting situation we find each other in. "  
  
"Three? Let's hear them, cause honestly I have only one in mind. "  
  
His laugh hits his ears harder than he should but his nerves are already starting to feel everything more than he should.  
  
"One: we go sit on the couch and spend the rest of the night opening our hearts to each other. Very poetical, very tragic. I'll even let you sob on my shoulder and don't complain about the snot stains!"  
  
"God, how many drinks you had before I came?!"  
  
Cas shakes his head and puts a finger on his lips, making him shiver at the touch  
  
"Shut up, Dean. Two: we still go sit in the couch, but instead of talking, we just get drunk and end up vomiting our souls out. Basically my usual night, minus the vomiting, I don't usually get that drunk. Or maybe I just have a very strong stomach. "  
  
Dean can't help but laughing at the serious expression on his face, but shakes his head.  
  
"I'll pass. What's number three?"  
  
Cas sights and takes another step forward and now there are literally just a few centimeters separating their bodies from touching the way Dean has been thinking about for days.  
  
"The third one is... well... complicated. "  
  
"It is?"  
  
"Yeah... "  
  
Cas is murmuring those words on his lips, his breath caressing them: his hands move on his shoulders, holding him there.  
  
"You take me upstairs and you fuck me until I'm a mess, until I can't even get up. "  
  
Those words hang in the air between them, louder than a siren even thought Cas whispered them so softly Dean barely heard him: he licks his lips and has to close his eyes for second in order to stop himself from just throwing Cas against the wall and fucking him there.  
  
"Well... it is complicated... "  
  
"I know... Everything would change. I'm not sure you're ready for that... "  
  
Dean puts an hand on the back of his neck and grabs him hard, making him groan, Cas's eyes looking almost liquid with the desperate want he reads inside them: make him want to do unspeakable things to him, fuck him so hard he won't be able to sit straight for days after he's done with him and oh God he's just picturing in his mind so fucking vividly he's scared he's going come like this, just like a fucking teenager.  
  
He has to take a moment to try to take a deep breath, only half succeeding, then he pulls their bodies together, rubbing his erection against Cas's through their jeans and the other man fucking moans so loud against his lips that he just...  
  
"I think I am... "  
  
Cas closes his eyes for a moment: then smiles.  
  
"Yeah... I think you are. "  
  
Kissing him again is fucking perfect, so intense his whole brain threatens to give up because dammit, it feels so good, so perfect he just wants to keep doing that forever and ever, not even stopping to breath because, hell, breathing is so overrated and Cas's lips feel so good under his.  
  
He's moaning in his mouth, caressing his body with greedy hands, while Cas's are in his hair, grabbing and pulling them until Dean is groaning and shaking him.  
  
"Fuck... we're never going to make it to the bed if you keep doing that... "  
  
Dean laughs and kisses him again.  
  
"Would that be so bad?"  
  
"Mmh... not for me, but are you sure you want Sam to find us naked and well fucked on the couch?"  
  
He closes his eyes for a moment and curses under his breath.  
  
"Right, right. Upstairs, bedroom. "  
  
Cas grins and kisses him hard on the lips one last time, before heading for the stairs.  
  
"That's what I'm talking about. "

 

They don't waste time once they're in the room; as soon as the door closes behind them, Cas's hands are all over him, pulling at his clothes, pressing him against the wall and kissing hard until Dean is left breathless and panting, struggling to keep some sort of control over himself.  
  
Cas's body is firm, warm and real in his arms, rubs against his in a desperate attempt to get more contact, more pressure, more everything: because nothing, nothing seems to be enough right now.  
  
His shirt flies across the room and Cas laughs as Dean fights to take off him with shaking hands, while still attacking his mouth, unable to to stop kissing him, his breathing rushed and his whole body restless.  
  
"Calm down, cowboy, don't want to have you finished before we even start having some real fun!"  
  
Dean bites his neck as an answer, making Cas crying out in pleasure when he starts licking and sucking the mark he left until there's s big red spot on his soft, white skin.  
  
It looks so good on him, like his whole body was made just to be touched like that and by him: his face is slightly sweaty, his eyes big and clouded by lust.  
  
He looks so beautiful Dean almost wants to scream it at him, but he doesn't, of course.  
  
"Oh, don't worry. I got this... "  
  
Once they're both shirtless, they stare at each other for a moment: then Cas starts caressing his chest, his fingertip following the outline of his tattoo, before pausing to get down and kiss it.  
  
Dean pushes him back until he ends up sitting on the bed, his face at the same height with his crotch.  
  
Cas grins and smiles wickedly at him, as his hands starts caressing his legs, carefully avoiding touching him where Dean really needs it, making him curse under his breath.  
  
"If you just wanted a blowjob, Dean, you should have just asked nicely... "  
  
"Oh, so it was on the menu?"  
  
Dean runs an hand through his hair, massaging his scalp and he's pretty sure Cas is fucking purring and shit, that's pretty much the hottest thing he ever heard in his whole life.  
  
"It is now. "  
  
Cas opens his jeans painfully slowly, like he's carefully unwrapping a present, taking all the time in the world and teasing him until Dean has to pull at his hair to make him go faster.  
  
"Fuck, Cas!"  
  
"We will, if you're patient and good... no rush, my friend... "  
  
He takes his aching cock out of his pants and starts stroking it, slowly at first, then faster and Dean curses and moans at every touch, one hand in Cas's hair, the other on the back of his neck.  
  
His body feels on fire, like it's about to burst into flames because of everything Cas is able to make him feel; it only gets worse when the heat of his mouth surrounds him.  
  
"Fuck!"  
  
The feeling is overwhelming, literally too much for his brain and his body to handle it, because it has been way too fucking long since the last time he had sex and he, with all the things that happened in his life lately, had no chance to notice how much he missed and needed it until now.  
  
And the other man is damn good at it, that's for sure, he's fucking knows what to do to make his legs feel weak and his body tremble under his hands and his mouth: his tongue caresses his shaft slowly, making him see stars behind hos closed eyes and honestly Dean can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed and so good.  
  
Cas hums around his dick, when he starts massaging his scalp again, licking and sucking and then he does something with his tongue that is absolute amazing and sudden that it makes Dean cry out in pleasure and threatens to make him come right there if he doesn't stop him right now.  
  
Even thought stopping him is really the last thing he wants.  
  
So, even thought his body vigorously protests, he pushes him away, taking some quick and deep breath to calm down.  
  
Cas lays down on the bed, smiling lustfully at him: Dean gets on top of him, kisses him again, caresses his chest and his hips.  
  
"You're still wearing your pants. "  
  
Dean laugh at him.  
  
"So are you... "  
  
"Yeah, well, that's not good, is it?"  
  
"Nope, not good at all... "  
  
Cas kisses him one more time, licking his lips after.  
  
"Let's fix it then. "

**to be continued...**


	4. We are the reckless, we are the wild youth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The title comes from "Youth" by Daughter.  
> 2\. I don't know how this story is being received, I can only hope people are liking it. If you have any comment, please post it, it'll make me very happy! Thanks!

**Chapter 4  
We are the reckless, we are the wild youth**

Dean wakes up because he's suddenly cold and he doesn't like it one bit: groans uncomfortably, still half asleep, and tries to go back to the pleasant warmth that surrounded him before and that felt so nice.  
  
A soft moan welcomes his movements and he slowly opens his eyes, coming face to face with a still soundly asleep Cas: he's laying on his stomach, an arm over Dean's chest, his head pressed against his shoulder, the only thing that emerges from under the blankets.  
  
Dean doesn't move, just looks at him and doesn't know what to do, if he should even be doing something or just get comfortable again and go back to sleep.  
  
Cas looks so much younger when he's sleeping, his face just gives up all the tiredness it has and becomes so beautiful Dean can't help but staring at it; can't help reaching out and gently touching his rough cheek with the back of his hand, receiving a muffled noise in return.  
  
He smiles and, careful not to wake him up, covers himself with the blanket, safe and sound in its warm embrace once again.  
  
Dean feels so good, so relaxed, so... almost happy: there's an incredible quietness around him, like the whole world outside is just... gone and he and Cas are the only people left; he knows that's crazy, of course and would never say something so cheesy out loud, but can think about that now, in the private space of his mind.  
  
Can savor how sweet it feels, the illusion he has no responsibilities, no burdens, no weights on his shoulders: that he can just curl against Cas's body and stay there forever.  
  
These thoughts are gone as soon as they're formed in his mind, but they leave a warm fuzziness that keeps holding him.  
  
"Are you going to just stare at me the whole morning? Is my face that attractive?"  
  
Dean snorts at Cas's sassy reply, as the other man opens his eyes and gets on his side to look at him easier: he's smiling brightly and looks so much better than before; they probably both needed what happened between them really, really bad because the way it transformed them it's just incredible.  
  
"Well, good morning to you too, Cas. "  
  
"And what a great morning it is... "  
  
His fingers trails imaginary patterns on his chest, his shiny blue eyes locked in his, a playful look in them.  
  
"Slept well?"  
  
His voice caresses his skin softly, making him shiver.  
  
"Like a baby, what about you?"  
  
"Same. Best night of sleep I had in long time... What time is it?"  
  
"Don't know, something half eight probably. "  
  
"Mmh... it's early then... "  
  
"Some days even noon is early for you, man. "  
  
Cas laugh and buries his head in the pillow again.  
  
There's nothing left to say for a while: Dean wants to touch him again, but he's almost scared of doing so now that Cas is awake.  
  
He's afraid of what every touch, every look, every words could make this look like.  
  
A part of him wants to put aside all these crazy fears about giving Cas the wrong ideas about their "relationship", if he can even call it that: he wants to just kiss and touch him, bath in the warmth of his body again and just forget about everything for as long as he can.  
  
But the other one, the stronger one, reminds him that there's no point in making things even more complicated than they already got the moment they kissed, that he needs to reestablish some distance between them now that he still can, or the mess he got himself into will just get completely out of his hands.  
  
Cas closes his eyes for a while and Dean almost thinks he just went back to sleep, because his breath becomes regular and soft again, but then he reopens his eyes and stares right at him.  
  
He frowns, gets a little bit closer to him and stares at his face like he's trying to read his mind to find out what he's thinking about.  
  
After a while, he sighs and rolls his eyes.  
  
"Oh my God, please tell me you're not over thinking this!"  
  
It's Dean's time to frown.  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
"It's written all over your face! You're all: "oh God, what do I do now, what do I tell him? How I'm gonna get out of this mess?". Please Dean, spare each other. This is completely unnecessary. "  
  
Dean swallows, feelings embarrassed and confused at the same time.  
  
"It is?"  
  
"Yep. We fucked, it was incredibly good and absolutely satisfying for both of us, I hope. Certainly it was for me. No need to make it bigger than it is. "  
  
Dean doesn't say anything for a moment, processing Cas's words in his head before answering.  
  
"Wow. That's well... incredibly controlled and mature, Cas. "  
  
The other man grins at him and gently scratches his hip.  
  
"I have my moments. "  
  
"So I'm just a great one night stand and nothing more? I'm heartbroken, I thought what we had was special, Cas!"  
  
Cas stares at his theatrical hurt expression for a second, then winks at him.  
  
"What can I say, I'm a cruel man... "  
  
He smiles at him, presses a quick kiss on his lips, then sits up and starts looking for a cigarette and a lighter in the drawer.  
  
This gives Dean a good look of his back and that's when he notices them: the two parallel scars that mark him, just under his shoulder blades.  
  
They're not big or scary, just two thin lines that still manage to look painful even though they've faded and look very old. Dean is sort of an expert in scars, sporting his fair share, and can't help but think what the hell happened to Cas to get some like those.  
  
A car accident maybe? A fight? He just can't stop wondering, it's almost a natural process for him.  
  
"Oh. You noticed. "  
  
Cas settles down against the headboard, smoking with a blank expression on his face.  
  
"Yeah, kinda hard not to. How you got them?"  
  
"I could ask you the same question and I think you'll have a lot more to tell than I do. "  
  
Dean doesn't reply and rises his hands in defeat: the air has changed between the, going from relaxed to complicated far too fast for his liking.  
  
His expression must be pretty clear, because Cas's face assumes a sheepish look and he lowers his eyes.  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude... it's just... there's nothing to say about them, ok? They're just scars: they used to hurt like bitches, now they don't anymore. They're just two old things I'll have to live with. No big deal. "  
  
"Ok, fine. You don't wanna talk about it. It's ok, I get it. "  
  
Cas nods and tries to smile, when Dean gets up too and steals a cigarette from his package, the other man quickly obliging and lighting it for him.  
  
"By the way, going back to actually important things: I just said we shouldn't make a big deal of it. Not that it must remain a one night thing. Actually... "  
  
His hand starts caressing his chest in a suggesting way.  
  
"I'd be greatly displeased if it did. "  
  
"Would you?"  
  
"Yeah... "  
  
Dean inhales the smoke deeply, than breaths it out, before grabbing the back of Cas's neck with his free hand and kissing hard, tasting the same scent of nicotine in his mouth: the other man moans against his lips, struggle to get in a position that allows him to touch Dean, holding his shoulder when he can catch anything else.  
  
The kiss doesn't last long, but it's enough to leave them both breathless and panting.  
  
"You're going to set fire to the bed, if you're not careful, you idiot... "  
  
"Oh? I thought we already did that last night... "  
  
Cas throws his head back and laughs, then takes both their cigarettes and turns them off.  
  
He grabs his face in his hands and kisses him again, slow and good: Dean caresses his hips, his back, enjoying all the feelings the closeness between their bodies gives him.  
  
"You think you're so smart and so funny, Dean Winchester, don't you?"  
  
"I think I'm adorable... "  
  
Cas kisses his neck in response and grinds their bodies together, making Dean moan.  
  
"I suppose you could say that, yeah. "  
  
Dean ruffles his messy hair and gently pulls away from him, laying down on the bed again: Cas looks at him for a few seconds, before following, keeping a bit of distance between their bodies, but with his hand that goes back on his chest like it belongs there.  
  
"So, what you say?"  
  
"About?"  
  
"You know about what. "  
  
Dean takes his eyes off him and takes a deep breath, feeling uncomfortable even though he knows he shouldn't: but talking is just not the way Dean Winchester is used to use to solve his problems and his issues.  
  
"Look, I know you ain't gonna stay here forever and I'm not asking you to or something. I'm not in the shape it takes to start a relationship with anyone, let alone with someone as damaged as you are. No offense. "  
  
"None taken. "  
  
"But... I just don't see why we shouldn't... you know, enjoy ourselves while we can. We had so much fun last night and it was so great, I don't think we should give up on it just because everything is telling us it's stupid. Fuck everything!"  
  
Dean laughs under his breath, passing an hand on his face.  
  
"You have a point there. But things tend to get complicated even when you don't want them to. And, like you said, I have enough issues. "  
  
He hears Cas sighs and he stop caressing his chest.  
  
"Well, if things ever get complicated, I'll tell you. How that sounds?"  
  
"Wow, you liked me fucking so much?"  
  
He laughs and kisses him on the mouth, then on the cheeks, caressing his freckled nose with his lips.  
  
"What can I say, we don't get many hot guys like you around here... "  
  
Dean grabs him and holds him close, his forehead against Cas's, breathing against his lips for a few long, slow minutes, before kissing him again, stroking his back gently, while the other man's hands find their way through his hair.  
  
"I'll regret this, I already know that. But you're right, fuck everything. "  
  
He gets up and moves until he's on top of him, getting down to kiss him again and again, rubbing their bodies together until Cas is panting and moaning between the kisses, his hands caressing his shoulders and his back.  
  
Dean just wants to touch him again like he did last night, bath in the heat of his body, feel all those emotions again, welcoming that lightness once more.  
  
"Wait... Dean, wait. "  
  
"What?"  
  
He looks at Cas confused for a moment.  
  
"What wrong?"  
  
"Sam is probably still at home, you know that, right?"  
  
Oh, fuck it. Sam. He completely forgot about Sam, too busy with matters that completely took over his brain and made him forget for a while that he even has a brother.  
  
"Fuck, you're right... "  
  
He looks at him for a moment, than smiles and kisses his collarbone.  
  
"You sure you wanna do this with the chance that Sam may hear us?"  
  
He's still touching him, thought, and his lips find their way to his neck and his shoulders again, kissing and biting his skin in that delicious way that makes Dean curse.  
  
"He's a grown up boy after all, I'm sure he'll handle it like a man and get over it. Plus, we'll try to be very, very quiet, ok?"  
  
"Are you sure we can do that? You were... quiet vocal last night. "  
  
Dean smiles as he slides his hand between Cas's legs, grabbing his erection and forcing him to hide a moan against his shoulder when he starts stroking it painfully slowly, to the point that Cas has to bite down to force him to go faster.  
  
"If you can, I can. "  
  
He laughs, the sound muffles against the side of his neck, then licks it and Dean shivers in his arms.  
  
"Oh, I like your spirit!"  
  
"I know you do, Cas, I can tell. "  
  
Then Dean just kisses him again, effectively silencing him.

 

Dean only manages to see Sam at lunch, after spending pretty much the whole morning in bed with Cas: he should feel a little guilty about wasting half a day like that, but he honestly doesn't give a fuck about it.  
  
He feels good, relaxed and in a great mood that not even Sam obviously curious and sarcastic expression can ruin.  
  
Or so he hopes.  
  
Cas stayed upstairs, nagged like a kid when he got up, only to fall asleep while he was taking a shower and getting dressed: Dean left him to rest, smiling at the way he curled against the pillow and under the sheets like a baby.  
  
And now he's face to face with his brother, who is smiling at him in that annoying way that seems to be saying: "oh Dean, I'm so smart, I know everything about you, you can't hide things to me"and that would generally just piss him off to the point of wanting to punch him in the face.  
  
But not today: today Dean takes a deep breath and refuses to get angry at anything and anyone; he feels far too good for that.  
  
"Hello Sammy. "  
  
He sits down at the kitchen table and unwraps the hamburger Sam got for him, refusing to make eye contact with his brother.  
  
"Hey. "  
  
"How was the rest of party last night?"  
  
Sam laugh softly and shakes his head, obviously getting his game and deciding to play along and see how and where this will go.  
  
"Hopefully nowhere"Dean thinks and starts eating, only then noticing the giant void he feels in his stomach that can't wait to be filled any longer.  
  
"It was... nice, but you didn't miss much. It got boring after a while. "  
  
"Told you it was going to be a waste of time. You... stayed there long?"  
  
"Yeah, came back around one o'clock, stayed behind to help Anna cleaning the place a bit. But the party pretty much ended after the happy couple left to get their well deserves first night together! "  
  
Dean gives him his best annoying smile and ruffles his hair, making him snort.  
  
"Always such a good boy, Sammy!"  
  
"And... what you did?"  
  
He almost chokes on his beer, but tries to stay calm and not to let anything show on his face.  
  
"Nothing, drank a couple of beers with Cas then went to sleep. "  
  
"Yeah, I noticed you were still... asleep this morning and didn't even get down for breakfast. Which is, well, weird for you, I don't remember you ever missing a meal, not even when you were sick or... "  
  
"What can I tell you, I was tired, ok?!"  
  
Sam laughs under his breath and rises his hands in defeat.  
  
"Calm down, Dean, I was just pointing that out. No need to get pissed!"  
  
"I'm not getting pissed!"  
  
"Ok! Fine, fine. Looks like this night of sleep really did good to you, you look really... refreshed. "  
  
Dean rolls his eyes and hisses, trying to calm down and go back to that great mood he was in before Sam started being a smartass.  
  
Weird enough, a part of him almost feels let down by his brother's reaction: he expected more questions, more... something, not these playful but subtle hints; maybe a part of him hoped Sam confronted him directly so he could have a chance to talk about what happened with Cas without having to bring it on himself.  
  
Cause he's never going to do that and he knows it perfectly.  
  
Fuck it.  
  
"What about Cas? Is he... still sleeping?"  
  
Dean takes another bite of his hamburger and chews him incredibly slowly just to annoy Sam before answering.  
  
"How am I supposed to know that, uh? I'm not his mother or his babysitter!"  
  
"Yeah, I bet you ain't that, not at all... "  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
Sam just shrugs and gets up.  
  
"Nothing. I'm going to go, Anna needs help with some stuff. See ya. "  
  
"Wait a second! What you meant before?!"  
  
His brother smiles at him, a wide, teasing smile.  
  
"I think you know, Dean. "  
  
Dean curses when Sam is gone, not even hungry anymore so his lunch remains half eaten: he stares at it for a while, confused and bitter, all the good feelings he had inside just a few minutes ago completely gone.  
  
Sam knows or at least suspects something: all those little hints he let slip through his words, the expressions on his face made it quite clear.  
  
And he still didn't confront him directly, asking him what's going on: sometimes Dean forgets how smart and genuinely kind his brother is and that those are the same qualities capable of endearing and pissing him off.  
  
Sometimes even at the same time.  
  
He takes a deep breath and tries to figure out what to do with him: the best decision is probably to just wait and see how things evolve, waiting for Sam to ask the questions and only then considering answering or not.  
  
Now he should probably not waste the last hours of sunlight he still has and go get some work done.  
  
For a moment he almost considers going back to bed with Cas, but decides against it.  
  
"I've been lazy enough today"he thinks.  
  
Dean wraps the remains of his lunch and puts them in the fridge, who also needs some cleaning and fixing, but maybe another day, and goes outside. 

 

"Sam said anything?"  
  
Dean hisses hard and pulls away from Cas, but his hands remain on his chest, where they were trying to unbutton his shirt and finally get it off him: the other man is laying on the bed between the pillows, smoking and smirking at him, unfazed by the interruption since it seems to upset Dean more than him.  
  
"God, Cas, can you not bring up my brother while I'm trying to get in your pants?!"  
  
Cas snorts and runs an hand through his hair, assuming a sheepish expression that makes him snort.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry I ruined your plans, but still. Did he?"  
  
Dean moans, clearly not happy about the question.  
  
"Not really he just... dropped hints here and there. "  
  
Cas nods and turns off the cigarette.  
  
"He was very nice to me during dinner, like really really nice. And the fact that he suddenly decided to go to Anna when you said you wanted to go to bed... "  
  
"Yeah, yeah, he knows, I got that! I think I know my brother better than you, right?"  
  
He pulls away from completely and goes laying down next to him, an arm covering his eyes: Dean can feel Cas moving beside him, until he's sitting on the best, legs crossed and hovering over him.  
  
"And how do you feel about it?"  
  
"Honestly? I don't know. He isn't saying anything so... I don't know what he thinks. And I don't know what I think, even worse. "  
  
"You freaking out because your little brother now knows you like men?"  
  
Dean is startled by those words and straightens himself to look at him.  
  
"I don't... like men... "  
  
"Oh? So you just like me?"  
  
Cas is fucking beaming, clearly pleased with himself for cleverness of his jokes.  
  
"Oh shut up! I don't... I don't like just men, ok? It's... it's not... oh fuck, let it go! "  
  
But now he's frowning, clearly surprised by the harshness in his voice and by the way he looked at him, almost angry at Cas for what, to him, must have been only a simple joke.  
  
"Hey, I was just joking, you don't need to explain anything to me and there's no need to get pissed off like that. Calm down, Dean, not everything is threat!"  
  
Those words hit him harder than they probably should because they make him realize how right Cas is and how fucked up his reactions usually are: he takes everything far too personally, lets words hurt me too easily and has no way of fighting it because... that's how Dean is inside, a frail, tender core of insecurities, fears and self loathing surrounded by a thick but at the same time shaky wall of hardness and hanger that he tries to use to protect himself.  
  
Apparently it doesn't work very well, cause he can still feel every hit, every blow, every fit of pain the outside world inflicts on him.  
  
And they all hurt fucking hard.  
  
Dean takes his eyes off Cas, unable to look at him any longer, feeling suddenly self conscious and angry at himself for his outburst.  
  
He would have probably got up and left if the other man didn't put an hand on his shoulder to keep him there, to steady him with a simple pressure on his body.  
  
"Hey, are you ok? What's that face?"  
  
Cas reaches out to his hair and Dean is just... unable to push away even though escaping his touch is the first reaction his instinct gives him; because he needs this, needs someone that just stays there, holds him together and comforts him.  
  
"Did I say something wrong? If I did, I'm sorry. "  
  
He kisses him, slowly, gently touching his face and pressing his body against Dean's, pulling away a little bit after to give him some space, but still remaining close to him and keeping touching him.  
  
"No, everything's fine. It's... not your fault. "  
  
Cas bites his lips and almost wants to say something more, but in the end he doesn't.  
  
"Ok, Dean, ok. "  
  
Dean still can't look at him, but welcomes the hand he feels on his arms, the reassuring and firm feeling on Cas's body against his.  
  
They don't do anything more than staying like that for hours, until eventually, they both fall asleep.

 

They start spending more time together, in and outside the bed: Dean isn't even surprised anymore by how easily Cas seems to fit in his life, in his world, like he was just meant to be there from the start, a quiet presence behind him.  
  
He just accepts it, enjoys it now that he can, because he knows it won't last forever, that he has to get his chance to get this... something that is almost peace and appreciate it fully before it's over.  
  
Cas still acts casually around him, like nothing really changed between them and they're still just two people spending some of their time talking or sitting in silence: he doesn't try to touch or kiss him in public, gives him more space than he probably should, but Dean gets why he's doing it.  
  
He's testing his boundaries, figuring out what can he push, where and when he can touch without scaring him off, because he knows Dean is complicated, curled into himself so tightly it's almost impossible to get things out of him, let alone hearing him talking about what he wants or what he needs.  
  
Dean wishes he could be different, that he could just... enjoy more, live more freely without having to ask himself if what's doing is right or wrong, if it's too much or not enough.  
  
Instead the best he can do is just accepting things as they are and trying to get the best of it, even though what is the best for him is just a small part of what he could get if he wanted, if he really tried to let go and to put all his doubts and fears behind.  
  
He likes the nights the most: not because of the sex, or at least not only because of that, but because those are the moments when he can let some of his walls down, when, hidden under the sheets and protected by the darkness, he manages to slip small things, little details outside.  
  
He lays on the bed with Cas curled against him, caressing his chest slowly, his breath hot against his neck, the warmth of his body lulling and comforting him: that's when Dean can open himself more and tells Cas something about himself.  
  
Never big things, only some funny memories about his childhood, about Sam, keeping all the important ones buried deep inside himself, away from Cas's clever eyes and quick mind.  
  
The other man laughs at his stories, enjoys them more then he probably should, but his attention is not fake and his desire of listening to him is genuine and honest, it makes Dean feel strangely grateful to him for doing just that, something not many people would do for someone like him.  
  
Cas is good at that, like listening to other people's problems is what he did his whole life.  
  
But something, and Dean can't quite put his finger on what it is, is off about him: little details that just weird him out, small things what probably wouldn't mean anything to regular people, but that are like a big loud warning for him.  
  
Because he's used to look for the faults, for the dirty, hidden secrets; they just stand out for him, he can't help but noticing them even when he tries very, very hard to because he doesn't want to ruin everything again with the raging paranoia that is always creeping under his skin: it's a curse Dean cannot escape.  
  
"What you did for a living before... well... everything happened?"  
  
Cas stirs against him, rising his face to look at Dean in the eyes, a sleepy veil on his face and groans, clearly annoyed.  
  
"Why you wanna know?"  
  
"Just asking. You know what I do, it's just fair that you tell me. "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and doesn't say anything for a while, rubbing his eyes.  
  
"I... I don't know... "  
  
"What you mean, you don't know?!"  
  
"It was a long time ago... "  
  
"A few months ago is a long time for you?!"  
  
Cas gets up from the bed and turns his back to him to get a cigarette and, Dean can tell easily, to find something plausible to tell him.  
  
"I... I was a lawyer. "  
  
"He's lying", the thought is so loud and clear in his mind it almost sounds like someone shouted it in his ear; Dean shakes his head and tries to push it away, but it still stays there, lurking in the shadow of his mind.  
  
"Oh. See? You knew, was that so difficult?"  
  
The other man takes a long puff of smokes and forces out a smile when Dean touches his shoulder.  
  
"No, it wasn't I just... don't like thinking or talking about it, ok?"  
  
Dean nods, feelings suddenly guilty now, cursing at himself because what was supposed to be only an innocent question, turned out to be just another proof of how stupid and insensitive he is.  
  
And because it just added more suspects and questions to the many others Dean already had in his mind.  
  
"Yeah, I get than. Sorry. "  
  
"No need to be, it's all right. "  
  
Cas's smiles because softer and less forced, his hand his warm on his exposed leg when he touches it, making it clear that the oncoming storm that menaced to blast on them is now far away.  
  
For the moment at least.  
  
"Oh, don't look at me like that! It's all fine, I said. Here, let me show you. "  
  
Cas turns his cigarette off and crawls on top of him, kissing his neck, then going up until their lips meet, moaning softly in his mouth.

 

The sex is great, of course: Dean almost didn't remember that being in some else arms could feel that good, that it could make him forget everything else.  
  
And Cas surely knows what he's doing; he seems to get instantly what he likes and how: it's amazing and almost frightening how every touch and every kiss always seems to hit the right spots and reducing him to a moaning mess.  
  
Cas lets him take the lead most of the times, then suddenly, without even understanding how it happened, Dean is the one begging and pleading to the other man to give him what he wants, to just stop teasing and get on with it.  
  
His body just fits against his, his lips always know where to touch, his hands can make him do literally anything with a single touch: it's almost too good to be true.  
  
"Who the hell taught you all these stuffs?! Weren't you like... married or something?! Oh, God dammit... "  
  
Cas laugh against his sweaty skin, bites down and moans when Dean grabs his cock: he's on top of him, riding him, moving above him so fucking perfectly it makes him want to scream even though he perfectly knows he can't, because Sam is just a couple of doors away, hopefully sleeping, and he has to contain himself.  
  
Which just adds more and more strain to his already raging frustration.  
  
"I could tell you... but then... I'd have to kill you... "  
  
Dean pulls him down for another kiss, all teeth and tongue, drinking his moans and his curses with a pleased smile.  
  
"You know what? It's better like that... So I can just imagine it myself. Oh this is gonna be good!"  
  
Cas moans out loud when Dean bites his nipple, licking and sucking it after, the other man's hands pulling hard at his hair, just making everything messier and more erotic than it already was: he didn't even think it was possible, but apparently it is.  
  
Dean keeps stroking him and Cas claws at his back desperately when he feels close to the edge, still moving up and down on his cock, making him wish he never had to stop, that they could just stay like this, their bodies fuses together in a mess of limbs, kisses, touches, moans and muffles screams.  
  
"You're so... incredibly wicked, Dean Winchester, I should have known you were troubles. "  
  
Dean kisses him again and again, until Cas's lips are all red and abused, biting and caressing them with his tongue.  
  
It's perfect, everything his: the weight of Cas's body in his arms, the feelings of his skin against his, how delicious his moans and pleads sounds to his ears...  
  
"And still... you wanted me... "  
  
They stop for a moment and Cas just smiles at him, before brushing his lips against his softly.  
  
"I love troublemakers like you... they're a lot more fun... "  
  
When they come, Dean muffles the raw scream that wants to get out of his throat against his collarbone, while Cas moans his name, pulling his hair so hard it makes him want to cry out in both pain and pleasure, but, for some miracle, he manages to hold back.  
  
Falling asleep against Cas is so easy, almost too easy: the fear of what could visit him in his sleep is temporally forgotten when Dean closes his eyes with the other man's body entangled with his.  
  
The nightmares, however, don't go magically away, of course, they still creeps in his consciousness and leave him with a nasty taste in the back of his mouth when he wakes up, something that reminds him of blood, but he usually doesn't remember them anymore.  
  
They're more bearable, don't haunt him with the same strength they had before, like there's some sort of shield between him and them: they still hurt, but not nearly as much.  
  
Cas always wakes up after him, refuses to get up and tries to hold him back and stop him from being productive.  
  
Dean wonders if this is what a normal relationship is supposed to be like: you talk, you laugh, you have sex, fall asleep and wake up next to someone and they slowly become your whole world, everything you can think about.  
  
He isn't at that point yet, not even nearly, most of the times Cas is just a faint thought in the back of his mind that becomes stronger when he sees him or when he remembers what they did the night before.  
  
But Dean wonders if this is what a normal life would feel like: having someone to cling to, that is there when you need him, that holds and listens to you when you're sad, that you fight and then make up with.  
  
It just sounds so weird to him, so... not what he is, what he's used to: he only had Sam and his father until now, they were his whole world, but that's different, his love for his family is completely different from everything he could feel for another person, for someone he doesn't share a blood bond with.  
  
And still sometimes Sam felt farther away from him than Cas does.  
  
Sam and John were his whole world, but there was a thin line between him and both of them that Dean would have never been able to cross.  
  
Things he just wouldn't have been able to share.  
  
Cas is different, he feels different.  
  
Dean doesn't knows how and what his feelings towards him really mean.  
  
And doesn't know if he should hope he has the time to figure them out or not.  
  
He closes his eyes and rests his head again Cas's, breaths in the scent of his hair and pushes those thoughts back.  
  
Again.

 

"Wake up. "  
  
Cas doesn't even move, he carries on sleeping like nothing happened, like Dean didn't just shake him and whispered something in his ear.  
  
He tries again, shakes him a little bit harder and rises his voice, but it doesn't work and Cas has no reactions.  
  
"Oh come on! Don't be such a fucking baby! Wake up!"  
  
Dean makes a pained noise and starts tickling his neck, but all he earns in a muffled moan of protest and the fact that Cas just crawls deeper under the sheets, trying to hide from his voice and his hands.  
  
"Fine, you made me do this, remember. "  
  
That's when Dean takes the blankets off him, exposing him to the cold morning: he has clothes on, which is good, but apparently not good enough for Cas's liking, because he makes a weird screeching sound and looks at him with a murderous expression in his eyes that only manages to make him laugh.  
  
"What the fuck?! The hell you want?!"  
  
"I want you to wake up!"  
  
"Why?! It's still early! I bet the sun isn't even up yet! Leave me alone!"  
  
Dean shakes his head and takes the covers off the bed so Cas can't get them back on: the other man hisses like a pissed off snakes and stubbornly keeps laying down.  
  
"Nope, you're gonna get up and we're gonna go out. "  
  
"Oh, Dean! Just... leave me alone!"  
  
"Come on! You said you wanted to go out more just a couple of days ago! Enjoy the nature! Well, that's you chance, come on, let's do something fun. "  
  
Cas sighs miserably and Dean almost takes pity on him, almost decides to leave him alone, but then changes his mind, because... well, because he just really wants Cas to get up, stop being a child and do what he says.  
  
"I take it back!"  
  
"Cas! Come on! It's not like I'm asking you to... I don't know, hike a mountain or something! Just to get up and go out to get some fresh air with me. "  
  
Cas looks at him puzzled for a couple of minutes, clearly debating if he should just tell him to go fuck himself or give in to his requests: in the end he sighs and, very, very slowly, gets up from the bed.  
  
"I'm going to fucking regret this, fuck you and your stupid pretty face. "  
  
"You won't, I'll make it worth it. "  
  
"Yeah, you better. God, what time is it anyway?!"  
  
"Mmh, around half past eight. "  
  
Cas makes a painful noise and just shakes his head.  
  
"It's far too early for me to be functioning, Dean... "  
  
"Stop being a kid! I'm not giving up, no matter how hard you try so... "  
  
"Fine. Just... let me shower and put on some fresh clothes and then we'll do... whatever it is that you wanna do. "  
  
Dean nods, smiling.  
  
"I hate you so fucking much right now. "  
  
But still Cas grabs the back of his neck and kisses him hard.  
  
"Good morning, by the way. "  
  
"Hurry up! You're not gonna distract me like that!"  
  
Cas snorts and disappears outside the room.

 

There's a small wooded area just outside the town and Dean heads there only because he literally has no idea where else they could go: the day is good, probably one of the last good ones, the sun is bright and warm, but not too much: just the perfect weather for a walk.  
  
As soon as they're surrounded by the trees, Dean feels strangely better, like breathing just became easier than it was before: everything is gone, the town with its people and all their noises, that suffocating feeling of being constantly watched, analyzed and spied.  
  
He can forget it for now.  
  
It reminds him of the hunts with his father and Sam when he was a kid or when Bobby used to take him and his brother camping, especially those times, because sometimes in his memories Bobby feels more like father than John to him.  
  
Dean likes being there, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the nature around him.  
  
It feels so good, so refreshing; it feels pure.  
  
Cas is a few steps behind him, sporting a Black Sabbath t"shirt that matches his AC/DC one is a romantically weird way.  
  
"Do you even listen to them?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Black Sabbath. "  
  
"Not really, just liked the shirt. "  
  
"Well, shame on you!"  
  
Cas laughs and shoves him away.  
  
"Maybe you can educate me then? "  
  
"Hell, yeah. I should do that! Give you some good things to listen to, get some taste inside that shithead of yours... "  
  
"My taste is already great! Thank you very much!"  
  
Dean shakes his head, smiling.  
  
They keep walking in silence for a while, the sun getting higher and hotter above them, but the trees shelter them so the air around remains pleasant.  
  
"Maybe... we shouldn't get too far from the town. "  
  
"Why? You scared about getting lost?"  
  
"Well, it could happen. "  
  
Dean laughs and shakes his head, while taking a sip of water and then handling the bottle to Cas.  
  
"Cas, I doubt this place is big enough for us to actually get lost in it and even if it was, I'm an expert on woods and shit like this, don't worry. "  
  
Cas smiles at him, suddenly interested in discovering whatever it is that Dean could tell him if he asks the right question: it's the face of a curious child, makes him almost endearing.  
  
"Oh? Really? Tell me more!"  
  
"Well... "  
  
"Wait, can we stop somewhere before you start? I'm tired. "  
  
"Seriously, Cas? We have been walking for... less than an hour!"  
  
Cas just shrugs.  
  
"I don't do walking, you should have known better!"  
  
Dean just laughs at him.

 

They sit down under a tree, their back against the old wood, their shoulders barely touching: Cas lights both of them a cigarette and for a while they don't speak, the only sound around them in the quiet breeze of the wind through the branches and them breathing.  
  
"So? You were saying?"  
  
"I used to go camping a lot when I was a kid. "  
  
"Why that doesn't surprise me one bit?"  
  
Dean laughs, but doesn't reply.  
  
"Sometimes my dad used to go hunting on his own and leave us with a friend of his, Bobby Singer, the man we're trying to reach. "  
  
"You and Sam used to go camping with him?"  
  
"Yeah, he taught us all sort of stuffs: how to set up traps, how to find your way back if you get lost, how not to get lost in the first place... "  
  
Cas gently smiles and puts an hand on his leg, rubbing it softly.  
  
"He sounds great. "  
  
Dean nods, not looking at him, but sensing the smile in the way his voice sounds, in the warm pressure of his hand.  
  
"Yeah, he is. He looks all tough and rough, but he's probably the kindest man I know. No one else ever gave a shit about us the way he did. Sometimes not even our father. But he never let us down. Not once. That's why we have to find him, we owe him that at least. "  
  
Cas doesn't say anything after that, lays back against the tree, looking absently at what surrounds him, taking slow deep breaths.  
  
"And what about you? What you used to do as a kid?"  
  
Cas shrugs.  
  
"Not much, usual stuffs. "  
  
"Like? I don't know what the "usual stuffs"are, you know? What was normal for me was ganking monsters with a shotgun!"  
  
The other man smiles a bit and looks at him with an almost guilty expression in his eyes.  
  
"I... well, I had a lot of older brothers. They used to fight all the time, until one of them was cast out by my oldest brother and we never heard of him again. He could be dead for all I know... "  
  
"And your parents?"  
  
"Didn't really care. "  
  
Cas doesn't add anything to that: he falls silent again, closes his eyes and detaches himself from everything.  
  
Dean looks at him trying to understand what he's thinking about, but Cas is far too good at putting on a blank face and hiding everything behind it, not giving him even the tiniest clue.  
  
"It's weird. "  
  
Cas opens his eyes and looks at him confused.  
  
"What is?"  
  
"That, for some reasons I honestly ignore and that I don't think I'll ever even start to understand, I always tell you things about myself that I wouldn't probably tell people I know so little that lightly. "  
  
He smiles.  
  
"Well, that's a good thing isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah. But at the same time, you manage not to tell me basically anything about yourself. "  
  
The smiles falters for a second, then goes back on, but it's not as bright as it was before.  
  
"Maybe because there's nothing to tell. "  
  
"That's a big, fat lie, Cas. "  
  
Cas stops touching him and lights himself another cigarette.  
  
"If there's something you wanna know so badly, then just ask. Maybe I don't fucking tell you anything because you never ask?"  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, feeling suddenly tired, so tired he just wants to leave this place, go back home and sleep forever.  
  
"I'm doing it again... fuck it... "  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm ruining everything because I can't keep my damn mouth shut. "  
  
Cas sighs and the hand that was on his leg goes on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.  
  
"Dean... I... God! Talking to you it's so damn exhausting! I try, but fuck, it always goes badly! But it's not your fault, ok? Not only your fault at least. It's just that we are complicated people and... "  
  
He doesn't say anything for a while, so Dean turns to look at him: Cas has his eyes closed, a pained expression on his face, like he's looking very hard to find the right words to say what's on his mind, but he can't seems to be able to.  
  
"Talking about our pasts is a bad idea. We should do that as little as possible, it's better for both of us. "  
  
Dean doesn't answer, but keeps looking at him even though Cas isn't: his face shows so many repressed pains and memory that he's probably trying really, really hard to keep hidden within himself, just like Dean does.  
  
It's surprisingly amazing how alike they are, both of them carrying their burdens in silence, never reaching out for help because they don't know how or just don't want to because they think they don't deserve to be helped.  
  
That they don't deserve to be saved.  
  
And even more amazing is that they found each other in the darkness that surrounded them, that they still managed to give in to that moment of restoring passion that seems to fix everything for a while, to give them the peace they need, but that they don't think they're worth of.  
  
Maybe that's why it never lasts, why it always passes far too quickly and makes the holes in their chests wider and more painful.  
  
Dean puts his head on Cas's shoulder for a second, only a moment, breaths in his scent and wishes they could be different, that their lives could change just like that, in a snap of fingers, in the blink of an eye.  
  
That their pasts could just disappears forever and leave only the present.  
  
"Plus, my life really isn't that interesting. There's really nothing to tell about it, I swear. I'd just bore you to death. Come on, let's... forget all this and let's just go doing more walking. You love walking!"  
  
"And you hate it. "  
  
Cas grabs his face and kisses him, slowly, enjoying the feeling of Dean's body against his, caressing his back; when he pulls back, he's smiling.  
  
"Then make it worth it!"  
  
Dean laughs against his lips.  
  
"Yeah? How?"  
  
Cas shrugs and gets up, brushing the dirt away from his clothes.  
  
"Oh, you're the expert, you'll figure it out, I trust you completely. "  
  
Dean just shakes his head and leads the way through the trees once again.

 

The rest of the day passes incredibly quickly, more than Dean would like: one moment they're eating the sandwiches Anna made for them, the next it's starting to get dark around them so they head back home.  
  
"Please, Mr. Expert, tell me it's not going to rain... "  
  
Dean chuckles and stares at the sky with pensive look on his face.  
  
"Well sorry to disappoint you, Cas, but I think it is. "  
  
Cas makes a pained noise, like he knew from the start that this was going to happen, like he could feel it in his bones and that right now the universe is doing nothing more than proving him right.  
  
"Well, we better hurry up. "  
  
They reach the house running like idiots under the pouring rain, managing to get completely soaking wet in less than ten minutes: Cas is panting hard next to him for the run, but at the same time he's laughing.  
  
"You know... this is such a fucking cliché, like one from one of those movies your women like so much, those romantic comedies or whatever. "  
  
"Don't tell me you liked that shit. "  
  
"Nope, but Anna loved them. I left her the tv Gabe got us when she moved into her own apartment. I mean, I kinda liked that thing, but I prefer the silence. "  
  
Dean presses him again the closed door, their wet clothes melting together in confused mix when their bodies touch.  
  
"You do?"  
  
Cas doesn't answer: he kisses him, hard, grabbing his shoulders and moaning into his mouth, the other hand traveling across his chest, caressing it.  
  
They just kiss for a while, not caring about the storm outside, about the fact that they're both shivering in the cold and they should probably go upstairs and change: there'll be time for all those things, now it's time to just stay there, pressed against the door and kiss.  
  
And it feels so good, more intimate than anything else they have done together inside and outside the bed: it feels like something inside them is touching, communicating in a way that doesn't need words.  
  
When they part, Cas keeps his eyes closed for a few seconds more, licks his lips and then smiles at him, caressing his cheek almost tenderly, even though Dean can feel the desire that creeps under every touch and every kiss.  
  
"Upstairs. Now. I'm fucking freezing here. "  
  
Once they're in Cas's room, the door safely locked, Dean starts peeling his clothes off of him, slowly kissing, touching and biting the flesh he uncovers, listening to Cas groans and moans with a satisfied smile.  
  
They hide under the blankets, Dean on top, his lips always trying to reach more of Cas, his hands caressing his parted legs, his arms, his chest while the other man slides his owns all over his back.  
  
Sex between them is usually rushed and blurred in a cloud of raw passion and desperate desire, but this time it's different, very different: it's slow, almost tender, it feels like it actually means something more, that it's not just something they like and want only because it feels good.  
  
It feels like they want it because that's the only way their souls can touch without them having to talk or explain themselves.  
  
Dean takes his time exploring Cas's body with his fingers, finding all his weak spots, stimulating them until the other man is reduced to a pleading mess, all lust veiled eyes and restless hands who try to mimic his actions, reaching out to touch him everywhere they can, rubbing his back, biting him at the curve of his neck, sucking on the bruise, enjoying every single feeling he gets to its fullest.  
  
When Dean starts to prepare him slowly, gently opening him at an agonizing pace, Cas almost screams, tries to move his body so he can get more pressure, more contact more... everything.  
  
"Fuck you, Dean, I hate you so fucking much... "  
  
Dean laughs and just keeps moving his fingers inside him, scissoring them, kissing him on the lips, on the neck, on the chest while he does.  
  
"You don't. "  
  
"Yeah, I don't... but I may start if you just don't... "  
  
They look at each other for one long moment when Dean withdraws his fingers, ignoring the groan of protest that escapes Cas's lips: there's something unsaid hanging there between them, a white noise that seems to get louder and louder until Cas silences it with another kiss, fearing what could happen if they let it free.  
  
Then Dean pushes slowly inside him and everything else is forgotten, all blurred in the heat of the moment.  
  
Cas moans and claws at his back, moving his hips to meet his thrusts, almost screaming in pleasure when Dean takes his, until that moment, neglected and aching cock in his hand and starts stroking it at the same pace of his thrusts.  
  
Dean wishes he could say something, that he could have words to describe how incredibly beautiful the other man is like this, under him, with his cock buried deep inside, whispering profanities against his skin.  
  
But Dean always sucked at things like that, so he just keeps pressing his lips on his burning hot skin, on his abused mouth and moves faster and faster inside him, feeling the orgasm building up inside him, forcing his brain to maintain some sort of control over himself, but failing when he looks at Cas, at those damn blue eyes that can read inside him like he's an open book, at that stupid face that is always too gorgeous for its own good...  
  
He just has to look at him and he's completely gone.  
  
Dean knows he's fucked, but doesn't give a shit.  
  
He wasted too much time caring too much, worrying about everything and everyone, about hiding himself from the world and be what others wanted him to be, acting like they wanted him to act and doing everything he was told to do.  
  
If he can be himself for at least one moment in Cas's arms, if he can feel almost happy, then it's worth it.

"It's raining really hard. "  
  
Sam is looking outside the window, a cup of coffee in his hand, the other in his pocket; Gabriel approaches him to check.  
  
"Yeah, looks like. You'll have to stay here a while longer, at least until it stops. "  
  
"It's fine, I don't mind. "  
  
The boy goes back at sitting on the couch, drinking the hot liquid with a satisfied smile on his face.  
  
"Really?"  
  
Gabriel sits on the sofa in front of him, looking at him like he's trying to decide if he's sincere or joking and makes it look like it's a very, very important decision.  
  
"Yeah, really. You're not that bad after all. You're actually pretty cool for being a loner who lives buried inside his house, ignoring the world and being a dick to everyone! "  
  
They both laugh.  
  
"Well, thank you. "  
  
"No problem. "  
  
"But I'm not a dick to everyone. Just to the people that piss me off. I'm a real gentleman to the people I like or tolerate "  
  
Sam rolls his eyes.  
  
"Right. I should have known. Then thank you for... putting me in the "people I like or tolerate"list. "  
  
"You're welcome. "  
  
Silence fills the room again while the two men drink their coffees without saying another word for what looks like a long time, but it's actually just a few minutes; the time seems to stretch around them, a side effect of the immense quietness that surround them: Sam can't help but staring at Gabriel's face, at the way he seems so careless and insufferable about everything, but still shows that, somehow, deep down he cares about other people, especially about Anna and Cas.  
  
He started spending more time with him, enjoying those simply meetings: a cup of coffee, a small chat about nothing important and long, comfortable silences.  
  
They're relaxing and refreshing, they feel good.  
  
"So what you think about my brother and your brother sleeping together?"  
  
Sam is surprised to hear that from him, because he expected Gabe to be probably the last person to find out.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I know. Don't look so shocked, I'm good at these things, uncovering dirty, little secrets and all that shit. Plus, I know my brother and I certainly know a hickey when I see one. "  
  
They both laugh at the joke and Sam thinks he should he have known better: Gabriel is clever, more than he shows.  
  
"Well... I think it's a good thing. "  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Dean is a lonely guy, he needs someone. And same for Cas. I think this thing between them is... good, that it's helping both of them to come out of the little shelters they built around them. It's good. "  
  
"But it won't last. You two will leave sooner or later. "  
  
Gabe's voice is almost sad, sounds like some sort of death sentence to his ears, in a scary, bad way that Sam doesn't like at all.  
  
"Yeah, I know. But I still think they should just go for it, sometimes you just have to live it all, until the end and fuck everything. Dean... you have no idea how closeted about these stuffs he is. If Cas can help him some way, I'm happy. "  
  
"But what about Cas? Don't you think he'll suffer when he'll leave him?"  
  
Sam doesn't say anything for a while and feels guilty about his words, because that's really not what he meant, but somehow he never manages to say the right thing, to make the good choice.  
  
"Oh, don't look at me like that, with that... lost puppy expression! Cas is a grown up man, he can take care of himself. "  
  
"Do you really believe that?"  
  
Gabriel sighs and finishes his coffee.  
  
"I hope so, at least. "  
  
Sam nods and doesn't reply, allowing the silence to surround them again, warm and thick.  
  
"What about you, Sammy?"  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"Wouldn't you like a bit of action too?"  
  
Sam laughs and shakes his head.  
  
"No, really. I'm good. I don't really need any of these things right now, already got too much on my mind. "  
  
"Oh? Like?"  
  
"Nothing, just... stuffs. "  
  
Gabriel nods and shrugs.  
  
"Well, that's a real shame. I know a couple of girls in town who would do anything for a cutepie like you. And a couple of boys too. "  
  
"Piss off!  
  
"Not interested in either? I hope you're not still a virgin, Sammy. "  
  
"I'm not, but even if I was that'd be none of your business. "  
  
Gabriel rises his hands in defeat, bowing his head to show how sorry he is.  
  
"I apologize. "  
  
"And you? No secret lovers hidden somewhere?"  
  
It's Gabriel's time to shake his head.  
  
"Nah. Like you, I don't need any of that right now. "  
  
"Too much on your mind. "  
  
Gabriel takes a deep breath.  
  
"Too much in this world. "  
  
His voice sounds just fine, but Sam can detect a fine, skinny note of regret and disappointment in it, almost of sadness too: like he's remembering things that hurt him deep inside, things he can't shake off like he usually does.  
  
And it makes Sam sad for him, makes him wish he could help.  
  
But all he does is pouring himself another coup of coffee and waiting in silence for the rain to stop.

Dean really, really hates going around the town on his own: he feels completely out of place and has this itch at the back of his neck like he's being observed; and probably he is, given the suspicious looks he still receives from the other inhabitants of the place.  
  
They seems to be still debating wherever he's a dangerous serial killer or the loner but harmless bother of the good, dear Sammy.  
  
He has absolutely nothing to do today: Cas got recruited by Anna to do something in the shop, because apparently "he never does anything useful and she's sick and tired of it"and since Sam is already there, they didn't need him.  
  
"I'll try to escape as soon as I can. God, I hate my sister sometimes... "  
  
Cas pressed him against the wall and kissed him slowly, tasting his lips like an inmate on the death row may taste his last meal or his last breath of fresh air: it's endearing and funny at the same time, but the way his body moves against him is neither.  
  
That's just arousing and makes him wish he could just grab Cas, take him back into the house and fuck him really, really good.  
  
"I'll come kidnap you in a couple of hours, how that sounds?"  
  
"That sounds... amazing. "  
  
Cas laughed against his lips, then pulled back when he heard Anna calling him.  
  
"Two hours. You promised. "  
  
"Two hours. "  
  
So now he's just walking around, with no idea of where he's going or what he's gonna do: it's already got too dark to keep working on the house and he's mostly done with that anyway.  
  
Dean sighs and lights a cigarette, looking around so bored he think he's probably going to kill someones or hurt himself: he doesn't mind being alone, he's used to it, but he usually has something to do, he doesn't have to sit or walk around doing shit, that's not how he functions.  
  
Unless he's in one of lazy moments, he needs something to do like he needs air.  
  
He meets a couple of people along the way, but they prefer ignoring him and he's honestly thankful for that because small talks is what he's the worse at.  
  
Hell, that's why he brings Sammy around!  
  
"Look who we have here! Dean Winchester!"  
  
Dean turns around and finds Gabriel smirking at him in that way that really makes him want to punch him in the face very, very hard: but he just takes a deep breath and decides that he's going to try being nice to the man for a change, to see if it pays off and to prove himself that he can do that perfectly.  
  
Yeah, no problem at all.  
  
"Hey, Gabe. "  
  
"Where's your bother? I thought you two were, like, attached to the hip or something. "  
  
"He's helping Anna in the shop. "  
  
"And you're not?"  
  
"She already got him and Cas to help, she didn't need me. "  
  
"And how she managed to make Cas do something that isn't laying on a couch for a whole day doing nothing?"  
  
Dean laughs.  
  
"Well, you know: it's Anna. "  
  
Gabriel nods, laughing too.  
  
"Yeah. I know. "  
  
They stare at each other for a few seconds, both not knowing what they should say or do.  
  
"Wanna go get a cup of coffee at my house? It's just behind the corner. "  
  
Dean thinks about it for a moment, not sure if he should say yes or no, but in the end decides to give Gabriel a chance: he may not be that bad after all.  
  
"Yeah, why not?"

 

"So, any news of that friend of yours?"  
  
"Nope, not yet, sorry. When I know, you'll know. "  
  
Dean nods and keeps drinking his coffee: they're sitting in Gabriel's kitchen, facing each other, examining their face with a suspicious look, but still trying very hard to be both decent and polite; or at least Dean is, mostly because he doesn't want to give the other man any chance to make him lose his cool.  
  
There's no need for that, he keeps telling himself: they're just having coffee and talk like normal people do.  
  
"Good, good. "  
  
"Are you liking it around here?"  
  
"Do you even care?"  
  
Gabriel shrugs.  
  
"Not really, actually. But I'm trying to be nice here. We can just stare at each other if you want! "  
  
"No, it's fine for me. It's an ok place, by the way. I've been in worst and better towns. "  
  
The other man nods, then smiles a very creepy an unsettling smile, making him shiver.  
  
"Yeah, it's not really a place that stands out. But at least it's home! You know what I mean?"  
  
Dean nods and warms his hands against the mug, holding it and staring at what remains of the coffee in it.  
  
"Yeah, I think I do. "  
  
They fall silent again after that, not finding anything to say, drinking just to pass the time.  
  
"So. You and Cas. "  
  
Dean almost chokes on the liquid when Gabriel says that and then tries to straightens himself on the chair, still coughing.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Oh, don't make that face! I know you're boning my brother, loverboy. And to be honest, I'm not surprised at all: Cas got his eyes on you since day one. It was only a matter of time before he managed to get in your pants. "  
  
He doesn't say anything, feeling so uneasy he wishes he could just get up and run away: but there's no way he's giving Gabriel that satisfaction, so he just keeps looking at him, almost daring him to say more.  
  
"As Cas's older brother, I feel like I should ask you what your intentions with him are. "  
  
"That's none of your business, you dick. "  
  
"Don't be so rude, Dean! After all, we are... almost family now since you're banging my brother, don't you think?"  
  
"I better get going before I punch you in your douchebag's face. "  
  
Dean starts getting up from the chair, but Gabriel rises an hand, stopping him.  
  
"Wait a minute. "  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're not going to stay forever. You'll live soon, how do you think he's gonna take that?"  
  
Dean doesn't reply right away and his expression becomes even harder because yes, he knows this thing he has with Cas isn't going to last forever and it'll be over sooner than later.  
  
But he hates to be reminded of that, especially by someone like Gabriel.  
  
"Cas can look after himself, maybe better than you. And he knows I'll leave, he's ok with it. "  
  
Gabriel smiles a crooked and weird smile that makes Dean even more upset and angry than he already feels, like he's deliberately hiding something vital from him and greatly enjoying his position of advance.  
  
"Well, I hope so. You two talked about this?"  
  
Dean hisses.  
  
"Even if we did, again that's none of your fucking business. "  
  
"Fine, fine. I get it, you don't wanna talk about it, it's ok. "  
  
Dean finally gets up and takes his jacket, heading for the door.  
  
"One last thing. "  
  
"And what it is?"  
  
"You should ask him about "Castiel". "  
  
Gabriel gets up too, approaching him: Dean turns around slowly.  
  
""Castiel"? What's "Castiel"?"  
  
"Ah, no, that's something you must ask him, Dean. Not me. "  
  
"Is this some sort of trick?"  
  
"It's not, believe me. But ask him, ok? And see what happens. "  
  
Then Gabriel just leaves the living room and goes back into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the room.  
  
On his way back, Dean keeps asking himself what he should do, if listening to what Gabriel said is just gonna fuck up everything or... or if he should try doing that.  
  
That word, "Castiel", keeps echoing in his head, making him more and more curious about what it could mean.  
  
Because yes, he wants to know more about Cas, wants to be able to tell what goes on in his mind and if this can help...  
  
But at the same time, he still has in front of his eyes how sad and pained Cas looks when his past in brought up, when it's even slightly mentioned and it's just his “I hate conflicts” attitudes that prevents them from really fighting about it.  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes: his mind is so full of things, ideas and doubts that it hurts, a soft but steady stab of pain inside his bones, that feels like his head is going to explode because of how much there's inside it.  
  
When he opens his eyes again, he finds a little boy staring at him: the kid runs away as soon as Dean notices him, leaving him alone again.  
  
Thinking so much ain't gonna help him choosing between the right and the wrong decision to make: it'll just make him feel like shit.  
  
He'll sort it out when he'll see Cas tonight, he thinks.  
  
He'll know what to do then.  
  
Or Dean hopes so, at least.

 

Cas almost throws himself in his arms when he shows up at the gas station: the two hours aren't up yet, but he honestly could care less about anything that is not the man in front of him; he has so much on his mind that it's easy to ignore the mess the place is in and Anna frowned expression.  
  
"Oh thank God you're here! This woman, my sister, she's crazy, you see? She was trying to kill me. Take me away from her, mister, please! "  
  
Anna rolls her eyes while approaching them, sighing loudly; Sam in the background just laughs, obviously amused by the whole scene and definitely not interested in getting into this mess.  
  
"Oh you stop being so damn dramatic or I swear I'm gonna slap you! A little bit of work is just gonna help you, not kill you. Dean basically repaired that wreck you call home by himself, but I don't see him complaining like you do!"  
  
"That's because Dean is a strong and manly man and... I'm not. As simple as that! Now: can I go, mummy? Please, mummy, please?"  
  
Dean laughs too, looking at Sam with an expression that seems say: "I don't know this man, really!"and that makes his brother's smile wider than it already is.  
  
Anna, on the other hand, looks pissed, but rises her hands in defeat, shaking her head.  
  
"Yeah, go away, please. I can't stand your whining any longer. "  
  
"Great! Let's go, Dean. Bye everyone. "  
  
Dean barely has time to wave to the others, before Cas grabs his hand and pulls him out of the shop.  
  
Once outside, Cas takes his face in his hands and kisses him hard, grinding his body against Dean's.  
  
"You're really the best, you know that? You deserve a treat, a really, really nice one. I'll take such good care of you once we'll be upstairs... "  
  
Dean laughs against his lips before kissing him again, making him groan and cling to him even more and it feels like Cas is all over him.  
  
"Come on, let's go. "  
  
They stop in the living room for a while, when they reach the house, sitting on the couch and smoking.  
  
"You think there may be something going on there?"  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
"Between Anna and Sam. You think... like, you known that there's something between them?"  
  
Cas doesn't answers right away, but looks at him with a confused face for a moment, like he's trying to decide if Dean is actually been serious or not; then he bursts into laughs, leaving Dean frowning at him.  
  
"What? Why you laughing?"  
  
"Oh, it's nothing, really. I'm so sorry. It's just... no, believe me. There's nothing going on between Sam and Anna, absolutely nothing. "  
  
Dean smokes in silence for a moment.  
  
"And how can you be so sure?"  
  
"I know my sister, Dean: Sam is not her type, not even close to her type. And even if he was... no, she'd never do anything. Sam is far too young for her. Hell... you're far too young for me too, now that I think about it... "  
  
Dean rolls his eyes, clearly finding it hard to believe.  
  
"Oh get the fuck over yourself! You can't be that much older than I am! How old are you?"  
  
Cas turns off his cigarette.  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"I asked first. "  
  
The man shrugs and takes a long sip from his bottle of beer.  
  
"Well, I guess you don't really wanna know... "  
  
"Ok, fine! I'm thirty one. "  
  
Dean stares at him while he thinks and he has again that weird epiphany that makes him realize that Cas is trying to find a believable lie to tell him; it's something that hurts a lot more than it should.  
  
"Well, I'm thirty six. "  
  
"Five years ain't that much of an age gap, you know that?"  
  
Cas doesn't reply, he just stares at nothing for a moment, with that vacant look in his eyes that Dean just doesn't get, before replying.  
  
"Sometimes they feel like centuries. "  
  
Cas scratches the back of his neck lowers his eyes, like he can't bear to look directly at him, because it'll expose what's really on his mind more clearly than he wants, and then takes a deep breath: his face looks so sad and melancholic and Dean literally has no fucking clue about what he should do, because even the smallest conversations seems to scare him away, to crush him in ways that really make him wonder what the hell the other man is hiding.  
  
It's just too weird, it doesn't make any sense to him at all: Dean hates talking about his past too, really, really does, but don't reacts like this when sometimes the topic comes out, like he's fucking terrified about what Cas could find out about him.  
  
It's like the secrets he's trying to hide from him are too big and too terrible to be uncovered, so that even the smallest mentions of them makes him panic.  
  
And between them, he thinks, he sure as damn is the one with the darkest secrets and with the heavier heart.  
  
"I met Gabriel today. "  
  
The words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, but Cas doesn't seems to notice his tone, too grateful to the apparent change of subject.  
  
"Really?  
  
"Yeah, we talked a bit. "  
  
"I hope he was nice to you, I know he can be a real dick sometimes, but... he ain't that bad if you give him a chance. "  
  
"He told me to ask you something. "  
  
"Oh? What?"  
  
Dean takes a deep breath.  
  
"He told me to ask you about "Castiel". "  
  
All the colors completed drains from Cas's face, his eyes take this terrified expression that Dean knows far too well: he can almost smell the other man fear.  
  
"What?"  
  
Cas's voice is shaky and uncertain, so low Dean can barely hear it.  
  
""Castiel". What's "Castiel"?"  
  
"Tell me exactly what he said. "  
  
Dean is taken aback by the sudden change in Cas's tone, his voice becoming strong and hard, with an hint of authority that he never heard in it.  
  
He hears Cas inhale loudly, waiting for his answer on the edge.  
  
"He just told me to ask you about "Castiel". We were... talking about, you know, this thing between us. I was leaving and he said that. "  
  
"Nothing else? He just told you to ask me?"  
  
Dean nods.  
  
Cas shakes his head, closes his eyes for a moment, obviously trying to calm down.  
  
"That son of a bitch... "  
  
"Cas? What the hell is going on with you?"  
  
Cas forces himself to laugh, but blatantly fails at it and it sounds so forced it hurts to hear it.  
  
"Nothing, Dean, really. It's... it's really nothing ok? It's a joke, just a joke. "  
  
Dean stares at him wide eyed, thinking how can the other man lie like this to him and think he's going to just get along with it like it's no big deal.  
  
It's almost insulting, but it's clear that it's just Cas's defense mechanism kicking him, that he's just trying to protect himself and not to hurt him.  
  
"A joke? You wanna elaborate?!"  
  
"When we were... kids... we invented weird words, you know, so other people couldn't understand us and we could keep our secrets safe. "Castiel"... it meant... idiot. "  
  
Dean doesn't even try to argue with him, because the lie is so big and blatant that it'd be useless to: Cas isn't going to tell him anything anyway, no matter how much he asks.  
  
It hurts to realize that there's a wall thicker and taller than the one between him and Sam between them: he thought for a moment that they could enjoy this as carefreely as they could; but that's a dream far too big for someone like Dean Winchester, the man whose life keeps getting worse and worse.  
  
There's no way there can be something easy between two people whose first worry is keeping their secrets safely hidden: there's no room for trust, for real friendship, for anything that involves honest feelings.  
  
The fear of being discovered just consumes everything, burns all the bridges and leave you all alone, surrounded by a wide and total desolation and not even that will kill that fear, it'll keep haunting you no matter what happens.  
  
"Don't think about it, ok? Just... just forget it, it's really nothing. "  
  
"Then why he told me that? Yeah, Gabriel's a dick, but he's not an idiot. "  
  
"He just wanted to upset me, that's all. Really. "  
  
Dean nods and lets Cas caress his face slowly and then kissing him.  
  
"Now, let's go upstairs... I believe I promised you something fun... "  
  
Cas's lips are against his cheeks, then on his neck, while his hands travel under his shirt.  
  
"Yeah, I believe you did. "  
  
Cas precedes him upstairs and Dean remains alone there, thinking for a while longer: he wishes he could ignore the painful feeling of... betrayal? Disappointment? Sadness? He feels inside, but he just can't and he knows he has no rights to feel like this, because Cas doesn't own him anything, especially not an explanation about his past, considering all the secrets he has, but...  
  
But he's so used to thinking that the other people are better than him, that they're worthy a lot more than he is that he just... he just can't help it, to feel upset when they act exactly like he does.

 

The sex is good, passionate and intimate as always, but it feels... different: like there's something between them that they just can't shake away or ignore or put aside even in that moment, no matter how hard they try and how good what they feel is.  
  
It sinks under their skin, attaches itself to them and doesn't let go.  
  
Cas moans and trashes under him, bites and kisses and licks him a lot more than usual, like he's trying really, really hard to distract him from thinking too much, like he's afraid that not even that could be enough to take his thoughts away from what bothers him.  
  
Dean tries to lose himself inside him, in what he's feeling, tries to forget everything and succeeds for a few, blissful moments, when the heat of the passion reaches its peak and nothing matters but Cas's body under him, his hands, his lips, his moans that fill his ears.  
  
But then it's all over and everything come back again.  
  
Cas curls against him, breathing against his neck, caressing his chest like he's savoring how his skin feels under his fingers; Dean touches his hair, his back, gently slides over his scars and feels Cas shiver when he does that.  
  
He almost wants to say something, because these are usually the moments when the locked doors between them open a bit and give both of then glimpses of what the other hides, of what's buried deep in their hearts.  
  
But he doesn't in the end, closes his eyes and tries to relax his sore body.  
  
He only falls asleep because he's far too tired to stay awake.  
  
His dreams are weird and confused, full of images he doesn't manage to understand and that, at the same time, scare him.  
  
Dean doesn't notice the fact that Cas, instead, stays awake, looking at him, caressing him while he's asleep.  
  
"It's not that I don't trust you, Dean. It's myself I don't trust. I'm so sorry. "  
  
His voice is soft murmur against his skin, a whisper that Dean doesn't hear, a secret he'll probably never know and that maybe it's better that he keeps ignoring.  
  
Cas wishes things could be different, that he and Dean could be different, but they can't change who they are and who they were: they just have to live with it and try to do the best they can.  
  
They need to keep breathing even if sometimes the weights they carry make it almost impossible, make it hurt so much they think they'll go mad and just give up.  
  
When he's sure he's sleeping, Cas gets up from the bed and very quietly puts his clothes on.  
  
Then, careful not to make any noise, leaves the house.  
  
Dean keeps sleeping, oblivious to everything, but with no way to escape his dreams.  
  
And maybe that's even worse than not knowing what is happening around him.  
  
Outside the rain has stopped, but the clouds are still covering the sky, hiding the stars and the moon: it's so dark it's scary.  
  
The only sound that can be heard it's the quiet breathing of the wind through the trees.

**to be continued...**


	5. The sweetest of words have the bitterest taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The titles comes from the song "Hardest of Hearts" by Florence + the Machine.  
> 2\. Sorry it took me a while to get this chapter online, I was sick and couldn't edit it. ^^ The last two will hopefully come much faster!  
> 3\. Please, let me know what you think of the story, every comment will be appreciated ^^.

**Chapter 5  
The sweetest of words have the bitterest taste**

Dean wakes up and the first thing he sees is Cas staring at him, one hand caressing his hip slowly, with a faint touch of nails, the other curled against his own chest, shining blue eyes exploring his face with a subtle touch of a smile in them: he groans against the pillow, still feeling tired as fuck, but smiles back when he feels Cas's lips on his neck, gently brushing over his skin before kissing it, making their way up until they find his mouth.  
  
He grabs Cas by the waist and holds him close while kissing him, his hand finding its way under the other man's shirt, feeling his skin warm under it: he moans into the kiss, caressing his face and his hair, opening his mouth for him, gently scratching the back of his neck until Dean is moaning too.  
  
"Well, isn't this a good way of waking up... "  
  
Cas laughs before kissing him again and then resting his head against his naked shoulder, placing soft pecks on it.  
  
"I was hoping it would be... "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again for a minute: the memories of the previous night are still dulled and confused in his mind, but they already manage to give him an unpleasant feeling, that fights against Cas's attentions that are trying to distract him from thinking about anything that is not his hands or his body.  
  
He remembers how Cas shut him out, excluding him completely, pushing him away in a subtle way that hurt more than a plain and direct refusal: he tried so hard to hide himself from Dean, using all his weapons to take his mind away from the questions he had and Dean let him do it, because he was too tired to fight a battle already lost.  
  
After a while, Cas pulls back, going to rest on his side of the bed again, the only contact that remains between them is his hand on his hip.  
  
They look at each other for a while, Cas's blue eyes shining in the morning light, his body nervous and relaxed at the same time, shifting to try to find a comfortable position that he seems to be unable to achieve.  
  
"Listen, I... I wanted to apologize about last night. "  
  
Dean frowns and Cas tries to avoid looking directly at him: he fumbles with the sheets and focus on them like they're the most important thing in the world.  
  
"I think I overreacted, when you asked me... about that thing Gabriel told you. God, I really sounded and acted like a complete douche, didn't I?"  
  
"Not really, but, yeah, you were weird. "  
  
"It's just... I can't talk about certain things, about... what I was before. I was a different person, a better one, I... I can't remember those times, ok? Call me a coward, call me anything you want, but I can't. It's just too much for me, comparing what I am now to what I was before. "  
  
Dean nods.  
  
Even though he's not sure he really, really gets what Cas is talking about, he can understand how he feels; sometimes for him thinking about his father and how his life was before he died it's just so hard he feel a raw and terrible pain in his chest.  
  
And that's when a sudden realization hits him hard, the small missing part that always bothered him, what always sounded wrong: Cas never mentions the daughter and the wife he said he lost to the flu; the only family he talks about are Anna, Gabriel, his lost brothers and sisters, but never anyone else.  
  
Dean has experience with parents who lost children and... they don't act like Cas does: sometimes it's like he doesn't even remember them, like they're part of someone else's life.  
  
"Is it because you lost your daughter?"  
  
Cas is taken aback from that questions and for a moment Dean spots genuine confusion on his face that just adds fuel to his doubts, makes it clear that he got it right, that he finally found the real fault in the castle of lies that Cas has built for him.  
  
The other man remains silent for a moment, trying to find something to say, fumbling with the words and the thoughts that are filling his mind.  
  
For a moment, it's all on his face, he can't hide anything: he's completely exposed and it would be so easy for Dean to break him, to find a way to make him tell him everything he wants to know right now, because he doesn't have a lie or an excuse ready.  
  
But he waits, again, he lets it go, doesn't force him; gives him his time.  
  
And when he finally speaks, Cas's voice is thin and strained.  
  
"It's complicated, Dean. It's not just one thing, one loss... it was too much all together, too many things I couldn't deal with at that time, because if I did, I honestly don't know where I would be today, most likely not here. And I still can't deal with them now, because... I don't know what could happen to the little sanity I have left. The things I've seen, Dean, the things I had to go through... could drive any man mad so easily it's scary. If I think about it too much... I can't. I just can't... "  
  
Dean wants to say something, wants to shake him out of that miserable pit he fell into and at the same time, he just want to follow him there, crawling in it with him and stay curled around him for the rest of his life, hidden and protect from the outside world.  
  
Lost in his fears and in his nightmares, but with someone else there he can cling to.  
  
"You're not here to stay. "  
  
Cas's voice distracts him from his thoughts.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You'll leave and I'm fine with it. I'm ok with the fact that sooner or later you'll not be around anymore, that all I'll have left will be these memories of you, of the time we have spent together. Let's just... not think about anything else, please. Just forget we both had a life before we met and appreciate what we have now. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath before answering.  
  
"Ok, if that's what you want... "  
  
"Dean... "  
  
"I get it, I get what you're going through and everything. It's just an hazard of my job, this need of wanting to know everything. I won't ask you anything again and unless you decide to tell me, I'll not bring this up. "  
  
Cas kisses him, maybe to silence him, maybe to say thank you, maybe just because he wants to: and Dean kisses back because he needs it, because the thrill he feels in his body when the other man touches him it's all he wants, all his whole body craves.  
  
He can forget about the rest, about the lies, the secrets and everything, if can have this.  
  
When they part, Cas smiles at him, curling against his body in that particular way that makes his blood boil in his veins with want and the hands that start once again caressing his body don't help.  
  
Dean grabs Cas's face and forces him to look at him.  
  
"Will you miss me? When I'm gone. "  
  
Cas laughs against his lips.  
  
"I'll miss your... everything, yes. "  
  
"Then come here and let me help you remember everything about it. "

 

Sam finds Dean sitting on the stairs of the porch after lunch, smoking a cigarette and drinking what is left in his bottle of beer.  
  
"Hey, can I sit?"  
  
Dean shrugs, like he doesn't really care about what Sam does.  
  
"You ok? You seem a little down today. "  
  
"I'm fine, Sammy, don't worry. "  
  
He looks around: the house looks so different from the first time they saw it; it was a wreck before, but now, while still pretty beaten up, it's in a far better shape: Dean worked hard on it, with a care and an attention he previously had only reserved to the Impala; it makes Sam feel weirdly proud.  
  
"You're almost finished with it. "  
  
"Yeah, a couple of days and I'll be left with nothing to do again. Awesome. "  
  
"But maybe you'll have more time for... another things. "  
  
Sam laughs when Dean looks at him all frowning and confused.  
  
"Like?"  
  
"Like Cas. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes at him.  
  
"Well, can't say I wasn't wondering when you'd ask me about that. I'm actually surprised you didn't say anything sooner. "  
  
Sam shrugs.  
  
"I was waiting for you to tell me, I thought that maybe you'd want to talk about it. But I got tired of waiting and teasing you is really a lot of much fun, but even that gets boring after a while. "  
  
Dean laughs despite himself.  
  
"Bitch. "  
  
"Jerk. So? You and Cas? Can't say I'm surprised you two ended up in bed, the tension was there since day one. "  
  
"Yeah, so I'm told... "  
  
Sam sighs and look at his brother for a while: he looks better.  
  
Just like the house, he may still be broken inside, where he keeps everything bottled and hidden, but something changed in him and in a good way.  
  
Like something loosened and relaxed, giving him a refreshed look.  
  
He looks younger, almost happy and it makes Sam feel relieved to know that, to see that.  
  
Sam spends more time he'd admit worrying about Dean, about what's on his mind, about the ways he could find to help him in every way he can, but sometimes it feels like his brother is too far away from him, that he can't touch Dean in any way and that no matter what he'll say or do, nothing will change.  
  
But now something has changed and, for once in their lives, it's one of the good changes.  
  
"You think it's weird? You know, me and Cas?"  
  
"Nah, I think it's good. You look good, Dean, really. You look so much better than before that I'd... I don't know... kiss Cas myself if I could. But no, don't worry, I'm not gonna do that. "  
  
Dean laughs quietly and nods.  
  
"So you're like... not weirded out by me being with a man?"  
  
Sam rolls his eyes.  
  
"Dean, I remember finding you kissing another boy when you were about... seventeen! I think that made it clear for me that you liked boys and girls!"  
  
"Really?! You never said anything... "§  
  
"There was nothing to say!"  
  
Dean nods, but doesn't look at him.  
  
"So... you're cool with it?"  
  
"Dean... honestly? I don't care who you sleep with. You like girls? Cool. Boys? Cool. Both? Still cool. What I really care about it's you and your... psychological, physical... whatever well being. So no, I'm not weirded out by you being with a dude. "  
  
"Wow, you're so supportive, Sammy. You should go out and do motivational speeches or something. "  
  
They both laugh at it, then Dean becomes serious again.  
  
"I feel better, you know? Not much, but I do. "  
  
Sam smiles and puts an hand on his shoulder, squeezing it a bit.  
  
"I'm glad to hear that. Really. I just hope you know what you're doing.  
  
"What you mean?"  
  
" You were the one who told me not to get too attached to this place and it's people... "  
  
"I'm not getting attached, Sammy, ok? I know what the fuck I'm doing, I don't really need you or anyone to teach me anything! "  
  
Dean turns off his cigarette angrily and doesn't look at him.  
  
"I know, Dean, I didn't mean... look, I'm sorry, ok? Let's forget it. "  
  
His brother takes a deep breath and massages his eyes.  
  
"I know I should be careful, that no matter how hard I'll try not to get used to it... fuck, I'm already used to this, to this place, to... Cas and it's probably going to hurt like a bitch when we'll leave. But I need this now. I just... I need to feel better and if this is the only thing that helps right now, so be it. I'm used to feel like shit when things go bad anyway... "  
  
Sam nods, wishes he could say something to ease the burden he's carrying, but he knows that he can't, that it's Dean's and he can't do anything about it.  
  
"That's the longest sentence you told me since I came back. And yeah, I get it. You know what? Just do what you think it's good for you, Dean. Forget about everything for a while. After all the crap you've been through, you deserve it. And I think Cas deserves it too, some... peace or whatever it is. "  
  
"Well, thank you, Sammy. It's really great to have so much support from you. Are you going to start crying and hugging me right now?"  
  
"Piss off!"  
  
They both laugh and for the first time in so, so long, Sam feels that they're finally doing it right: that there're rebuilding the connection he almost thought they had lost and becoming really brothers once again.  
  
Sam missed it so much, that closeness he an Dean had during their childhood, like only one could understand the other and make him feel loved and better no matter what was going on.  
  
"I'm glad, you know? That you told me all this. "  
  
Dean nods.  
  
"By the way, I think we'll have to stay here still for a while. "  
  
"Oh? And how you know that?"  
  
"Gabriel told me. "  
  
His brother looks suspiciously at him and Sam tries not to make how nervous he is about talking about this too blatant on his face.  
  
"You talk to Gabriel now?"  
  
"We just met and he told me, nothing more. Well, I should get back to work. "  
  
"Running away from me, Sammy?"  
  
Sam rolls his eyes and get up.  
  
"Shut up. "  
  
The two brothers look at each other smiling for a moment, then Sam leaves, feeling really relieved and happy in a long time.  
  
"Wow! That's one big smile you're sporting, Sam!"  
  
Anna greets him happily when he enters the gas station.  
  
"Yeah, I'm feeling really good. "  
  
"Well, I'm glad, you're a good kid, you deserve it. "  
  
Sam nods and thinks about his conversation with Dean, about how easy again it felt talking to him for the first time, like they can really, really get over the swamp they were into and get over it, the past, the resentment, the unsaid and unfinished business.  
  
Maybe they can really have a completely fresh start as brothers, fix their problems and go back to what they used to be.  
  
Sam almost doesn't dare dreaming it, fearing to be let down again, fearing a fight that would kill this frail and young bond they have established once again through so much pain.  
  
He stops thinking when Anna calls him again and goes back to work, pushing those thoughts away and focusing on the good things.  
  
Because he and Dean deserve to think and to focus on them, they need to get over the sufferings of their pasts and try to be happy.  
  
It's the only way they have to survive.

 

Cas loves the feeling of Dean's body against his, the warmth and the weight of it when they're in bed together: it makes him feel like he can just close his eyes and forget about everything that is not them, entangled together in a tight hug, too tired to even move, that they can just keep laying there, kissing and touching.  
  
It's a blessing, something that Cas tries to treasure inside himself, creating a small corner in his mind where all these good memories with Dean will go: "For the dark times"he tells himself, "for when he'll be gone and I'll never see him again. For the moments when I'll miss him the most and I'll have left will be them".  
  
Dean moans softly when Cas starts running his hand through his hair, while he rests his head on his shoulder: his back feels firm against his chest, their legs are curled together and when he gets down to kiss his neck, he can sense the soft smile on the other man's lips.  
  
They almost never end up cuddling, even if they're in bed together, especially when they don't have sex: but Cas has this feeling that Dean, while being always so stiff and difficult, really likes it, that he would probably try to touch and feel him more if he wasn't... well, Dean.  
  
For him, even the smallest things seem to be incredibly hard to get, like he has to fight ten times more than everyone else to get them, even thought he probably really doesn't have to, because Cas would do and give him everything he wanted in a blink. But he doesn't even ask or try most of the times, because something just holds him back and makes him almost run away from the things that could make him feel good.  
  
So Cas does it for him: grabs him by the waist and pulls him on the bed, holding him: he patiently listens to Dean whining about him being so annoyingly clingy and then, when he's done, silences him with a small kiss on the lips, circles him with his arms and keep him there, close and warm against his body.  
  
Dean relaxes in his arms after a while: sometimes they talk, sometimes they don't do anything for a while, then Dean get up, kisses him and they have sex.  
  
Or he simply falls asleep, his head on Cas's chest and he just stares at him for a while, caressing his hair, before settling down on the bed and resting against him, enjoying the warmth of Dean's body, concentrating on his regular breathing.  
  
"You're quiet. "  
  
Cas smiles at how tired Dean's voice sounds, like he's about to fall asleep, but he's fighting it.  
  
"Yeah, so are you. "  
  
Dean doesn't say anything, his eyes are closed and his face is so peaceful Cas just wants to kiss it and then get down and kiss is whole body, undressing him slowly so he can put his lips on every bit of skin he uncovers, until Dean is a moaning mess under him.  
  
But then the doorbell rings and all his plans get interrupted quite rudely.  
  
"Who the hell could it be so late?"  
  
"No idea, I'll go get it. Well, if you do me the favor of getting off me. "  
  
Dean gets up with an annoyed sound and Cas goes downstairs: he's not surprised when he sees Anna on the doorstep, a sheepishly and apologetic smile on her face; not many people would come knocking on his door, especially so late.  
  
"Hey! I'm sorry, it's really a terrible time to come bothering you, I know... "  
  
"Don't worry. You're always welcomed here, you know that, no matter what time it is! Come in. "  
  
Anna smiles at him.  
  
"Well, thanks. I will... try to be quick... "  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
Dean's scream reaches him muffled, but still clear.  
  
"Just Anna, I'll be back soon. Wanna sit down?"  
  
Anna nods and they get to the couch: she looks nervous, keeps playing with a lose string on her jacket, looking around without focusing on anything.  
  
"Want something? Water... "  
  
"No, I'm fine, Cas. Really. "  
  
"Ok. So... "  
  
"Yeah, right. I need to talk to you, it's important. "  
  
He nods and Anna takes a deep breath, like she's trying to find the right words, but has no idea where to start even thinking about what she wants to say or how.  
  
"Hey, are you ok? You look so... pale and scared. Did something happen?"  
  
Anna tries to smile but it doesn't come out very well, so Cas puts an hand on her shoulder and squeezes it gently to calm her.  
  
His sister finally smiles at him a real smile, takes his hand between hers and holds it: they're cold and sweaty, but Cas doesn't mind; what really bothers him is the redness in Anna's eyes, the worried look he sees on her face.  
  
He hates having to watch her like this and would do anything to fix it.  
  
Because if there's someone in this world who doesn't deserve to be sad, it's Anna.  
  
"Anna, what's wrong?"  
  
"I... I don't know where to start. I just.. it's so hard, Cas. I feel so... lost right now and I don't know what to do or what to say. "  
  
A weird noise coming from upstairs makes him frown; Anna doesn't seem to even notice it, but Cas puts a finger on his lips and she looks at him slightly confused.  
  
"Dean. Upstairs. "  
  
His whisper is so low that she struggles to hear it even though they're so close together.  
  
"You think he's listening?"  
  
"Don't know, but it's better we're careful. "  
  
"Got it. "  
  
Cas nods at his sister.  
  
"So, tell me what's wrong now. "  
  
Anna takes another deep breath.  
  
"I think I'm pregnant. "  
  
Cas is so shocked by the revelation that for a few, long minutes he can't do anything but keep holding his sister's hand and looking at her with wide eyes and an open mouth.  
  
Then the words start sinking into his brain, slowly, but still all he can do is muttering confused words.  
  
"What?! How... I mean... I... How can it be possible?!"  
  
"I have no idea, ok? I'm as shocked as you are, even more than you, believe me!"  
  
"But I thought... that you couldn't!"  
  
Cas is trying really hard to keep his voice down, but it's really, really hard because his brain is making a lot of noises, making his head hurt very bad and God, he really needs a fucking drink, but he can't get up and leave Anna alone like this.  
  
"Well, apparently I can!"  
  
"But... are you sure? Like one hundred percent sure?"  
  
Anna hisses at him, like he just said something incredibly stupid and maybe he did, probably, but thinking straight under such an intense stress isn't his best quality.  
  
"Not completely sure, but... I really think I am. "  
  
"Well fuck... "  
  
Cas takes his head between his hands and rubs his temples, feeling really tired.  
  
"I... didn't even know you had that... monthly thing human women have... "  
  
"You better keep your voice down, unless you want Dean to hear you rambling and start asking questions I know far too well you don't want to answer. "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and tries very hard to calm himself.  
  
"So you're going to have a baby... "  
  
His sister smiles at him and nods.  
  
"Well... I think so at least!"  
  
He laughs softly and shakes his head, starting to feel some sort of happiness and pride towards his sister, something that gives him a warm rush of peace and hope.  
  
"Did you tell the father already?"  
  
Anna shakes her head and, after looking at the distressed look on her face, Cas curses at himself for being such a rude idiot and puts an arm around her shoulders, holding her close, feeling her relax against his body.  
  
"But you're going to, right? I mean, if you really are pregnant, you'll keep the baby?"  
  
"Yes, of course! I'm just... I need time to process it. A few months ago this wouldn't even be possible and now... I guess the change was complete, that there's nothing of the... old me left. Maybe it's for the best. And think about it! Me with a baby!"  
  
Cas kisses her head.  
  
"You'll be the best mother of all time, Anna. "  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Of course! You're such an angel, after all. "  
  
Anna finally relaxes and laughs too: she deserves it, among them she's the only one worthy of some happiness, the one who lost too much because of him, because of his mistakes.  
  
When he looks at her, Cas feels a painful stab of guilt that makes his heart bleed, that reminds him of times where things were different, maybe easier, when he had a purpose, a mission, a reason to go on and keep living.  
  
He thought nothing could change, that his life would just stay the same and follow its regular path forever.  
  
But then one day...  
  
"Cas?"  
  
Only when Anna calls him he realized he had zoned out and lost track of what was happening to fall into his thoughts: it happens more and more often recently, Cas wonders why.  
  
"Sorry, I was just thinking. "  
  
She nods.  
  
"You'll have to tell Gabriel. "  
  
"Ugh, don't even make me think about that, just the idea makes my head ache. "  
  
Cas laughs, but then becomes serious again when he remembers something.  
  
Something incredibly important.  
  
"It'll be that day soon. You still want me to... try that?"  
  
Anna suddenly becomes paler, her hand tight on his and he can almost hear her brain working so clearly it's scary.  
  
"I didn't think about it. How could I not think about that?!"  
  
"It's ok, really, you have been kinda busy!"  
  
She nods.  
  
"Yes, do it. One last time, it probably won't work anyway but... I think we should still try. If not for me anymore, maybe for you?"  
  
"I really don't think they'd want me back even if they answered. They forgot about us, Anna, they don't give a shit, they never have. "  
  
"Maybe you're right, but we must not forget who we were. We need to remember! We can't lose so much... "  
  
"It's easy for you to talk, sister. You don't have all the ghosts I carry inside. If I could just... throw all those memories away, I would in a second. "  
  
His sister sighs and then gets up.  
  
"I should go now and you should get back to Dean before he starts to get suspicious. "  
  
"You're right. Hey, come here! Congratulations!"  
  
Cas smiles at her and they hug, Anna's hand rubbing his back gently; her eyes are wet with tears when she pulls away.  
  
"Hey! No tears, ok?"  
  
She nods and walk towards the door.  
  
"Cas? I know it's painful for you, thinking about the past, but... don't let go of it. You need to remember who you were or you'll just end up losing yourself. "  
  
When she's gone, Cas gets into the kitchen and pours himself a generous glass of absinthe, drinking it almost all in one shot to sooth his troubled mind and calm his nerves.  
  
There's too much on his mind and all he wants is to get back upstairs and drown his thoughts and his worries in Dean's arms.  
  
But he can't forget Anna's words, the ones about keeping your memories even if they hurt and make you wish you could just give up and die, that you could just stop feeling so much pain, make it all stop and rest.  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and finishes his drink, then goes back upstairs.

 

"Everything ok?"  
  
Dean sits on the bed when Cas comes back: the other man smiles and takes a cigarette from the drawer.  
  
"Yeah, fine. "  
  
"What she wanted?"  
  
"Mmh, I don't think I can tell you yet, sorry. "  
  
Dean shrugs, even though the curiosity to know what happened downstairs is strong: he got up and tried to catch some bits on the conversation, but they were talking in such low voices that he just gave up after a few minutes, feeling too cold to stay there like an idiot and not wanting to intrude the moment between Cas and Anna.  
  
"Fuck, I'm so cold. "  
  
Cas turns off his cigarette after only a few breaths of smoke and gets back in bed with him, caressing his hip slowly and waiting for him to make a move to get closer to him: Dean gently pulls him closer and kisses him, tasting absinthe and nicotine in his mouth.  
  
"Mmh, you feel so nice... so warm... "  
  
Dean laughs against the curve of his neck, pressing his lips against it, inhaling his scent and closing his eyes for a moment.  
  
"You should keep me... "  
  
"I really should, tied up to the bed and always ready for me, how that sounds?"  
  
Cas starts grinding his body against his, making him moan.  
  
"Sounds good to me. "  
  
Dean's hand find their way under Cas's clothes, caressing his naked back and taking off his shirt: the other man moves until he's laying on the bed with him on top, pulling him down for another kiss.  
  
"You're always so... eager to do things, you should slow down, enjoy them... "  
  
"Then stop looking so fucking fuckable... "  
  
Dean moans again when Cas slides his hand inside his pants.  
  
"Damn it, Cas and you talk about slowing down with your hand around my dick?"  
  
Cas laughs and bites his neck, while scratching his back: his fingers stroke his cock slowly, the usual torture that makes the bundles of nerves in his body contract and .  
  
"I'm gonna mess you up so fucking bad, Cas, you have no idea what I'll do to you... "  
  
"Less talking, more action, Dean. "  
  
Dean licks his lips and kisses him again, hard, pushing him into the mattress.

 

The room is quiet, the only sound around he can hear is his father labored breath; the lamp on the bedside throws an illusion of health on his pale, sweaty and tired face with its yellow light.  
  
Dean sits in a corner, looking at him, unable to take his eyes off the figure on the bed, even thought that image hurts his eyes, makes him wish he could get up and out of the room like Sam did; it has been two hours and his brother still hasn't returned: maybe he ran away again, leaving him behind like he did years ago and Dean almost wishes it because maybe it'd better this way.  
  
He still feels the need to protect him, to spare him what will come, what he knows he'll have to do.  
  
John managed to talk to Sam, putting more efforts in it than it was wise to do: Dean didn't stay to listen, he went out of the room for a smoke, leaving them alone; he heard no screaming or fighting, which is probably good, considering how things usually are between them.  
  
But after that, Sam told him he needed some time alone and left; he tried not to remain alone with their father in the past two day and this makes Dean wonder, makes him think, but he'll never be able to ask the questions, to demand the answers he wants.  
  
Was that really only two days ago? Feels more, a lot more, but maybe he's just too tired to remember things in the right order, everything is confused and mixed in his mind, a chaos he hasn't the strength to even try to fix.  
  
It's a miracle Sam even managed to find them: he appeared on the doorstep of their room, a sheepish look on his face, those big eyes Dean remembered far too well and what looked like a crooked smile of apology.  
  
"I... got an hold on Bobby he told me where you were. "  
  
Bobby, of course, always Bobby, trying to put their lives back together no matter how ruined and broken they are.  
  
Dean's head hurts, everything hurts actually: he hasn't slept in... God, he doesn't even remember in how long, feels like months or years and he doesn't even want to think about closing his eyes and sleeping because he's afraid of the gifts his mind could bear him.  
  
"Dean... "  
  
His dad's voice is low and harsh, he coughs a couple of times and Dean rushes at his side.  
  
"I'm here, dad, I'm here... "  
  
John's hand is to hot on his wrist, but his grip is still strong: his father tries to focus on him, takes a couple of deep, labored breath before he's able to talk again.  
  
"Dean... it's time... "  
  
Dean shakes his head and tries to let go of him, but his father's grip becomes harder.  
  
"You have to, Dean. I'm... changing, I can feel it. I have to do it now. "  
  
"I can't, dad, I can't. You can't ask me to... "  
  
"I could hurt you or Sam. Especially Sam. Dean... I'm not strong enough to fight it any longer. It has to be now... "  
  
"Why me?!"Dean wants to scream, "Why it always has to be me? I'm weak too, I'm not strong enough, I... can't let you go..."  
  
"What do I tell Sam?"  
  
"That you went you and found me when you came back, that there was nothing you could do. It would be the truth, you don't have to do anything. "  
  
"But maybe you can still get better, dad!"  
  
John shakes his head.  
  
"No more talking, son. You know what to do. Hurry up, before your brother comes back. "  
  
For a moment, they just stare at each other and Dean wishes he could just grab his father and cry against his chest, screaming that it's not fair, that this shouldn't be happening to them, that he shouldn't give up like this and keep fighting for them, for him.  
  
But Dean is a good son, he does what he's told: so he just nods and goes to fetch his father his gun...  
  
He stayed outside after, even thought his father told him to go away, as far as he could...  
  
He stayed and heard the single gunshot break the silence.  
  
No one else heard it, but him...

 

Dean wakes up panting, sitting up so suddenly he think he's going to be sick, his head spinning so fast he can't see anything, can't hear, can't talk: his chest burns at every breath, his body is covered in sweat.  
  
He's startled so bad when somebody touches his shoulder that he pushes him away so harshly he almost falls off the bed.  
  
"Dean?! What's wrong?"  
  
Cas's voice is muffled by the blood rushing into his ears, clogging them, confusing him even more: he tries to speak but nothing comes out and he has to coughs a couple of times not to choke on his own saliva.  
  
He's shivering, his body feels so cold outside and burning inside and all Dean wants is to make it stop, everything, the furious beating of his heart, the painful laboring of his breathing...  
  
When Cas tries to touch him again, gently grabbing his arm, he suddenly gets up, startling him again, a scared expression appearing on his face: Dean wishes he could care, but he doesn't, really doesn't give a shit about anything; he turns on the bedroom lamp on the bedside and starts picking up his clothes.  
  
"Dean! What's wrong?!"  
  
Dean doesn't answer, doesn't even look at him: he dresses in silence, fast, without even sparing a glance to anything.  
  
He needs to get out of there, needs to be alone now, before he loses it, before his self control just gives up and he'll completely break, shattering in a million pieces he'll never be able to get back together.  
  
Cas tries to call him again, but Dean doesn't listen, he cannot listen, can't waste any time thinking about him when his own mind is on the verge of collapsing.  
  
He stops for a moment when he gets to the door, the impulse of looking behind is so strong he almost gives in, almost lets go, because a tiny part of him wants to turn around and bury himself in Cas's arms, crying against his chest, screaming and trashing and just... just let it all out, what he kept buried within himself for so long, for too long...  
  
But then Dean just opens the door and gets out, not even bothering closing it.

 

Once he's alone in his room, a room he has barely used since he has started sleeping with Cas, he sits on the bed, takes his head in his hands and just stays there, not crying, not speaking, barely breathing.  
  
The memories of that day fill his mind, a reminder of his failure, his biggest and most terrible one.  
  
He got out of that room and left his father dying alone.  
  
He just said "yes", like he always did when his dad asked him to do something, obeyed him because he was a good son, his only good son, the one who stayed, the one who never defied him: but he should have said no, should have stopped him, fought against him if he had to.  
  
But Dean just left, opened the door and left, turning his back to him, to his own father and keep repeating to himself that that's what he wanted, that he didn't want him to see doesn't ease the guilt he feels deep in his heart, doesn't fix anything.  
  
It makes it even harder to take, because he dad tried to protect him even then, even when he was about to die.  
  
Dean has those last memories, his last words, carved into his brain and they hurt, they burn, they make him wish he could just give up because he feels like he doesn't deserve them, that they're just the proof of how little his dad new him.  
  
Because he's not brave, he's not a hero, he's not someone to be proud of.  
  
Sometimes he can't even bear to look at himself into the mirror, disgusted with what he sees; sometimes he just wishes he had the guts to just grab his father's gun and be done with everything: the pain, the shame, the regret he feels deep inside his soul, that just tortures him, making him feel just like a waste of space, a stain on this world.  
  
People would be better off without him, free from the burden of his existence... but he never does it: because he's a coward, because he doesn't want to die.  
  
"I'm so proud of you, Dean. You took care of Sammy, of me... I'm so, so proud of you. Remember, watch out for Sam, your brother will need you. Now go."  
  
His father's voice was tired, but he was smiling.  
  
The last time Dean looked at him, he was smiling.  
  
A smile that will haunt him forever.

 

The morning comes and it's raining outside, so Dean stays inside, a cup of hot coffee in his hands, his legs buried under a blanket, sitting on the couch alone: Sam is out, Cas buried into his room.  
  
The only sound he can hear is the rain falling on the house, everything else is quiet: he still feels messed up by the dream he had last time, but the biggest part of the shock has faded, leaving him empty and tired.  
  
He managed to sleep a couple of hours after almost finishing the bottle of absinthe Cas gave him and, thankfully, had no other dreams.  
  
But now he feels numb, washed out, with a painful stab of guilt when he thinks about Cas, about how he acted towards him the night before.  
  
Dean empties his mug and places it on the coffee table, breathing slowly, feelings his lungs filling and emptying, his brain working at such a slow pace that everything around him looks gray and blurred, like he's looking at the world through someone else's glasses.  
  
He focuses on the nearest things to forget what his nightmares are made of, what they bring with them, the overwhelming desperation they carry.  
  
Tries, all right, but fails because everything around him seems to hurt right now.  
  
He almost wants to get up and go knocking on Cas's door, trying to explain himself in some way, because... because he has to, because what he did was not right and even if he had been unable to think clearly and didn't meant to hurt him, he still needs to tell this to Cas, needs to make him understand.  
  
And he doesn't want to be alone right now and even the other man hurt and cold expression would be better than loneliness.  
  
Dean doesn't even know why it's so important for him that Cas forgives him, that gets what was going on inside him and that he is not mad at him anymore: but it does, he needs it; he needs at least that forgiveness, since it's the only one he can get.  
  
Maybe things have gone too far with him, maybe he's far too involved with Cas and now what he feared the most it's starting to appear clearly: he's getting attached to him to the point that he cannot imagine not talking to him, not being able to touch him anymore while he's still there, while they still have time: because they're running out of it and every moment, every second matters.  
  
He doesn't realize Cas is in the room until he sits next to him, startling him: he was so buried in his thoughts that he didn't even hear him coming down the stairs, or maybe Cas was just being very, very quiet.  
  
They look at each other for a while, the other man's face is hard and emotionless, Dean's one is probably tired and sad, but what matters is that Cas is there: that's what he tries to focus on right now.  
  
"I shouldn't even be here, shouldn't even bother coming to you and asking about what the fuck happened last night. I shouldn't care. "  
  
"But you do?"  
  
Cas shrugs and takes his eyes off of him.  
  
"Not really, I'm just being generous and giving you a chance to explain yourself. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and when he sees the other man shivering a bit, he covers his legs with the blanket: and Cas gets a tiny bit closer to him.  
  
"It wasn't you. It was me. I... I didn't know what to do, I just knew I had to be alone. But it had nothing to do with you. "  
  
"Bad dream?"  
  
"Yeah, you can say that. "  
  
"About your dad?"  
  
Dean nods and Cas sighs.  
  
"I... you scared me ok?! I thought you were going to have a fucking seizure or something!"  
  
"I know, I'm sorry. "  
  
"God, Dean! Sometimes I just... I just don't know how to... what to do. You just do things and I don't understand them and I... never mind. I don't wanna know, you didn't ask me anything, I'm not going to ask you. But... you can talk to me. If you feel like. "  
  
Dean smiles at him, feeling a rush of gratitude towards him.  
  
"I know, I've already told you more about myself than to... well, anyone else. Ever. "  
  
"Should make me feel better and not gonna lie, it does. Fuck you. "  
  
Dean manages a short laugh and Cas puts his hand under the blanket, caressing his leg.  
  
"You're a stupid son of a bitch, you know that?"  
  
"Yeah, I know... "  
  
"I should... I don't know... kick you out. "  
  
"But you're not going to. "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and looks at him, smiling softly.  
  
"No, I'm not going to. You're too pretty to live on the streets, that's the only reason I'm gonna keep you. "  
  
Dean pulls him slightly closer and the other man's hand finds his, caressing it slowly, only with the tip of his fingers.  
  
"Plus, you're going away soon anyway, why deprive myself of your amazing... everything before it's time. "  
  
"I'm very grateful and so is my beautiful everything. "  
  
"Shame that the worst part of you is your personality. "  
  
Dean laughs and grabs his face, bringing him closer and kissing him: it feels good, like turning on the light and giving colors back to everything.  
  
Cas curls against him, putting his arms around his neck, pulling him closer, until he's sitting on his lap, Dean hugging him and not letting him go.  
  
"You're such a damn son of a bitch, you play dirty and have no shame in doing so. I fucking hate you, your stupid face, your stupid body... "  
  
Cas keeps kissing him everywhere, grinding his body against his, making Dean moan in his mouth.  
  
"I really, really wish I could just kick you out of my life as easily as you slipped into it. But I won't be that lucky. Being without you it's gonna fucking hurt. I'm gonna regret everything and keep everything close at the same time. "  
  
Dean caresses his hair, his back, his face, kisses his neck, biting it softly, his hands traveling under Cas clothes to touch his naked skin, making him shiver because they're cold and he's sensitive to every touch, every move, every kiss, every breath.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you, you know that? I'm really gonna miss you. You feel so good in my arms, under me, above me, curled next to me when we sleep. God, Dean. I'm gonna miss you so fucking bad..."  
  
Dean silences him with an open mouth kiss, trying to make him stop talking, thinking, everything, because every word is a stab of pain in his already bleeding heart and he has no need of more wounds in it.  
  
"Stop talking, dammit, Cas! Just... stop talking... "  
  
Cas caresses his face slowly and then smiles.  
  
"Let's go upstairs then, Dean. "

 

They spend the rest of the day in bed, sometimes having sex and sometimes just laying there in silence, barely touching and at the same time, feeling closer to each other than ever: Cas's fingers trace the curve of his body, caressing his hip, his side, his arm, going to rest on his chest; Dean touches his back, those scars that seems to be a magnet for his hands because they always end up there, feeling their patterns under his skin.  
  
Cas moans under his hands, his body pressed against the mattress and Dean loses himself inside him, forgets about everything else in the heat he feels around him when they touch or kiss.  
  
It's like slowly healing, every touch seems to mend him somehow, giving him something to cling to, because he's afraid of losing himself, that if he lets go now, everything will be over forever and nothing will save him this time.  
  
He wants Cas, needs him more than anything else because it's like the other man has the power of taking his pain and turning it into something that hurts less, that doesn't tear his soul apart, but that feels like a soft burn he can bear.  
  
They almost never talk, but they don't need to.  
  
It's like their bodies know everything and make words useless.  
  
When he falls asleep, Dean doesn't dream, but even through the curtains of sleep, he can feel Cas's body entangled in his, his hands soothing him.  
  
It feels good.

 

It's a night like many others, the one when Dean wakes up and sees Cas putting his clothes back on as quietly as he can, obviously trying very, very hard not to wake him up: he doesn't even know what woke him up, maybe the loss of warmth or just some weird hunter's instinct kicking in.  
  
He wants to say something, make Cas realize he's awake, but for some reasons, he doesn't and pretends to be still asleep when the other man turns to check on him: he doesn't seem to notice he's faking it, getting even down to caress his face lightly, before exiting the room.  
  
Dean waits for a few minutes in the dark, not sure of what he should do: it's not uncommon for Cas to wake up and wander around at night, but this time it feels different; plus, the man put his jacket and his boots on, like he's going to go out and this is surely not common.  
  
So he gets up and decides to dress quickly and follow him: waits for him to leave the house and then goes after him, being careful not to get noticed.  
  
But for him, chasing someone as easy as breathing, something he's so used to do he doesn't even have to think about it: Cas walks slowly, not paying attention to anything that is not the road in front of him.  
  
The town is completely quiet, no one's out, no cars are passing through it and nothing seems to move: it's like him and Cas are the only people alive in a ghost town and it sends shivers of uneasiness along Dean's back.  
  
He often finds it hard not to look behind to make sure no one is following him and almost wishes he had woke up Sam and asked him to come too: not because he's scared, not really, but because... there's something that just bothers him, that doesn't seems to be right.  
  
Like the fact that Cas barely gets out of the house during the day and it makes no sense that he would do that in the middle of the night; or the silence around them, that's so deep it almost feels unreal.  
  
Cas never looks behind, never stop, just keeps walking until they reach what seems to be an old parking lot, empty and desolated: he stops right in the middle of it, with Dean hiding where the lights don't hit him and he can stay hidden in the shadows.  
  
Nothing happens for a while, nobody moves: Cas just stands there, not doing anything and after a few minutes, Dean considers leaving, because it's fucking cold out there and he just really wants to get back home and to the warmth of the bed.  
  
But at the same time, he doesn't want to leave Cas like this and is considering just walking to him and ask him to get back with him, when suddenly he starts talking.  
  
At first, Dean thinks he's humming a tune, maybe a song, because he can't quite catch what he's saying from where he is: but then he tries to listen more carefully, getting closer to him, not really caring about being seen anymore and realizes that Cas is reciting something, like a prayer or a spell.  
  
But the weird thing is, that he's talking in a language that Dean has never heard before: it's not English or Latin, but something completely different from everything he ever came across.  
  
It almost sounds like one of those old nursery rhymes, slow and hypnotic, but made of weird, unknown words: it has two or three lines, Dean is not sure, that Cas keeps repeating over and over, looking up at the sky, but not doing any other movement or moving from that spot: he just keeps talking.  
  
The whole thing lasts for maybe five minutes, then Cas suddenly stops and silence falls again: Dean doesn't know what to do, so he just waits to see what going to happen, his hand that goes to touch the knife he always brings with him more to give himself courage than to considering using it.  
  
Cas seems to be waiting too, for something to happen maybe, searching the sky with his eyes like he's expecting something to fall from it or to appear in front of him.  
  
But nothing happens, nothing moves and in the end, Dean hears him sigh.  
  
"I'm really, really an idiot, right? After so many tries, I should have known that you heartless sons of a bitch weren't going to answer anyway. No matter what I say, no matter what I do, you just... you just don't give a fuck, right? You sit up there, in your precious Heaven and... who cares if people get hurt, if people are left behind... "  
  
Cas laughs bitterly.  
  
"I should have brought a bottle of whiskey or something with me, to toast at you all motherfuckers and to your success in becoming bigger douches than I though you were. People die, people suffer... but you just don't care. Not even when they're your own brothers and sisters... and why you should, after all? You're right, you have always been right. Why caring, when you can just pretend nothing of this exists... well, you know what? We are better off without you lot.  
  
Anna is going to have a baby, a family, the normal life she deserves; she far better than us all, the only one who really deserves peace and happiness. We all get what we deserves, in the end, I guess. Don't worry, I'm not gonna bother you anymore, you can pretend we don't exist. Oh wait: you already do. Well, I guess this is a farewell, brothers and sisters. Goodbye. I hope one day your pretty little Heaven crushes and crumbles under your feet! "  
  
Dean doesn't move from his corner, when Cas is done and has literally no idea what to do, doesn't even dare making even the smallest sound: the whole thing was probably the weirdest he has ever assisted to and he saw some pretty freaky shit in his life.  
  
Cas just keeps standing there, not doing anything, but not looking at the sky anymore: Dean just wants to get out of there, as far as he can from this scene, but something keeps him there, his eyes glued to Cas's back.  
  
"Dean, I know you're there. Come out, there's no point in hiding anymore. "  
  
Cas turns towards him and Dean makes a few steps in his direction.  
  
They stare at each other for a while: Cas's eyes are sad, heartbroken almost, he doesn't even try to reassure him or to clear up things.  
  
"Cas, dude, what the hell was that?! I mean... are you ok? You drunk or something cause that was... "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and sighs.  
  
"I know, you probably have a lot of questions right now... damn, Dean, you should have stayed in bed, there was no need for you to see this... and now I own you an explanation now. And you'll have it. Just... promise me you'll hear the whole story before you start freaking out. "  
  
"Ok, ok I promise, but what... "  
  
"Just follow me and I'll tell you everything. "

**to be continued...**


	6. And you knelt beside my hope torn apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Again, I'm sorry for taking so long in pubblishing the chapters, but... you know, life!  
> 2\. Titles comes from the song "Ghosts that we knew" by Mumford & Sons.  
> 3\. I really, really love comments!

**Chapter 6  
And you knelt beside my hope torn apart**

They walk in silence through the deserted town, Dean a few steps behind him: Cas's mind is surprisingly clear and calm, which is weird, considering that his darkest and most hidden secret is about to come out; he just keeps walking, not even considering what he's gonna tell Dean, because he already knows he'll fuck everything up anyway in the end.  
  
After their exchange in the parking lot, Dean just followed him without asking any more questions, a confused expression on his face and Cas could see all the things he wanted to say but didn't written all over his face: but he trusted him, did what he asked without any arguments.  
  
Cas wonders how much of that trust will just disappear forever before the night is over.  
  
"Why are we stopping here?"  
  
They're in front of Gabriel's house: the lights are on in the living room, like Cas knew they'd be and he can see the silhouettes of his siblings behind the curtains.  
  
"I thought we were going home. "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and then turns to face him.  
  
"I... I wish I had the guts to tell you everything on my own, but sadly I don't. Plus, you're an hunter, you believe in the supernatural and all that shit, but maybe not even you will believe what I'm going to tell you. "  
  
He leaves the sentence hanging for a second.  
  
"If I don't give you any proof. "  
  
"And the proofs of what you need to tell me are in your brother's house?!"  
  
Cas shakes his head, sadly, feeling so tired he wonders how the fuck he's still standing, what force is keeping him up; he gets closer to Dean and almost touches his face, almost gives in and kisses him, but doesn't in the end.  
  
He pulls back, hands in his pockets.  
  
"I can't give you the proofs you'll need, I'm not able to anymore... but soon you'll see for yourself. "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes, that look tired and weary.  
  
"I don't understand what's going on Cas, I really don't and I don't like it. I don't like it at all. "  
  
"I know, believe me. And if I could do this any other way, I would. But I can't. Just... just follow me and you'll understand, ok?"  
  
The other man nods and then Cas, against his best judgment, reaches out and kisses him on the lips, a quick and chaste touch, winning against that force that was stopping him earlier.  
  
"I want you to remember... that I never wanted to lie to you. I just... this is much bigger than you and me. Just remember that hurting you was never my in intentions. "  
  
Dean looks at him for a moment, like he wants to say something, like he can feel the words right there in his throat, but they just won't come out and Cas can read in those incredibly beautiful green eyes something that makes his heart break and hurt: it almost looks like sincere trust and he knows how hard it must be for somebody like Dean to give that out to somebody else.  
  
He manages to softly smile at him, before they go inside.  
  
Anna and Gabriel are startled when they see Dean appearing behind him, exchanging confused looks between them and with Cas.  
  
"What the hell he's doing here?"  
  
"Cas? What happened?"  
  
Cas just shrugs, at loss for words, and goes to sit down before his legs decide to just give up on him.  
  
"He followed me, he saw the whole thing. He saw everything. "  
  
Anna makes a weird sound, half surprised, half terrified; Cas can't look at her, because he knows he won't be able to handle the expression in her eyes, so he stares at the wall in front of him, ignoring even Gabriel panicked outburst.  
  
"What?! And you didn't even notice?!"  
  
"Ok, wait a second all of you!"  
  
Dean's voice echoes in the room and everyone shuts up.  
  
"What the hell is going on here?! You all just... go on talking and looking at me weirdly and here I don't... just tell what this is all about. "  
  
Anna sits down next to Cas and takes a deep breath.  
  
"Dean, I think you should have a sit. And please, stay calm ok? Let's all do that. We can handle it. "  
  
Dean does as he's told and takes a sit right in front of Cas, trying to meet his eyes, but he escapes the contact, feeling like a fucking coward but being unable to do anything else; he really, really wishes some of his former self was left in him now, some of that bold courage he had, that strength that would have made this whole thing so easy to handle.  
  
Where did it all go, he wonders, he used to be a warrior, a soldier of the light, or so he thought, and then it was all gone so fast his mind didn't even had the time to realize it: now he's just a wreck, unable to handle his daily life without drowning his sorrows in a bottle.  
  
When they're finally all sitting down, an awkward silence fills the room: Dean is looking at Anna, while his sister is trying to find the right words to start.  
  
"Dean, this... this is really hard for us. We never had to tell anyone before... "  
  
"And we would never had to if it wasn't for him... "  
  
"Gabriel, enough!"  
  
Gabriel just shakes his head, but doesn't reply, Anna's tone commanding enough to shut him down.  
  
"Like I was saying, this isn't easy, for any of us and won't be easy for you to listen. Cas told us you and Sam hunt monsters for a living, so you probably have an open mind about... unusual things... "  
  
Cas can't help, but let out a soft nervous laugh at that and barely listens to what his sister says after that: he wants a drink, needs one, but has no way of getting up to get it so he focuses on Dean now that he's not looking at him, on his face who looks more and more confused and that is starting to show some subtle signs of fear.  
  
“Wait for it, Dean, if you're scared now, you'll be terrified soon. “  
  
"Wait, wait. Stop for a second. Cas told you guys what me and Sam do?"  
  
His voice sounds hurt and disappointed.  
  
"He had to, it was... a dangerous situation for us. But we never... thought we'll get to this. To be at the point where hiding the truth from you is no longer possible. "  
  
"What truth?! What the hell you talking about, Anna?! Have you all gone crazy or something?! Cause it totally looks like!"  
  
Anna takes a deep breath before going on talking and Cas think it's really unfair that she must always be the strong one, especially in the delicate state she is now; he wants to reach out and take her hand, to comfort her in some way, but doesn't even have the strength to keep himself together.  
  
"The truth about what we are, Dean. "  
  
"About what you are?! What... What's that supposed to mean?! "  
  
Cas stares at his own hands, closes his eyes and inhales deeply, waiting for those words to be spoken, for the truth to be finally revealed: he never even pictured it on his mind, not even once, how it would have been to tell someone, probably because he tried so hard to forget his “previous life” ever existed that after a while he started believing his own lies and it just... stopped being a problem.  
  
"We could lie to you, you know? We could tell you some... basic crap and make you believe it somehow. We never had to before, but I think we could manage it. But I think we just... for once, and I'm pretty sure we'll all regret this soon, we just need to let it out. I'm the first one in line when it comes to run away from problems and hiding behind a well built wall of bullshits. But yeah, that's starting to become really tiresome. And if there's someone who can actually believe and understand us... well, that's probably you. "  
  
Cas himself is surprised by those words, when they come out of his mouth in a calm and controlled way, like they were just waiting to get out: and maybe they were, maybe a small part of his always wanted to tell Dean the truth from the moment he found out about his being a hunter.  
  
Dean looks at him puzzled and more confused than ever.  
  
"This whole thing is really starting to give me the creeps and to piss me off real bad. So just tell me and lets get over this shit. "  
  
Anna starts to talk again but Gabriel sighs and interrupts her.  
  
"Once upon a time, me, Cas and Anna, well... let's say we were exactly the same as you lot. We were something different. I used to think we were better, a superior race or something, but after all that happened? I must admit I'm not so sure about that anymore. You hunt monsters, Dean, you believe in demons, werewolves, vampires... well, then start believe in this too. "  
  
A thunders explodes in the room, followed by a lightning that lights up the room like it's daylight and for a moment, for a small, brief instant, makes the silhouette of two big black wings appear on the wall behind Gabriel.  
  
Anna closes her eyes and breaths deeply, while Cas looks at Dean, who is just staring at Gabriel, his mouth slightly open and an incredulous expression on his face.  
  
"Did you had to do it like that?!"  
  
"He was going to ask for proofs anyway, better giving them to him sooner than later, don't you think?"  
  
"What the hell was that?!"  
  
Gabriel turns to face Dean and smiles that smirk that Cas really wish he could wipe off his face, when he sees the shocked expression on the other's.  
  
"My wings, hunter. Those were my wings. It actually took a lot of effort to make them come out, I'm not what I used to be... "  
  
"So what the hell you are?! A... weird mutation of demons on something?!"  
  
Gabriel inhales loudly, his face becoming stern and hard.  
  
"No, Dean. We are angels. "  
  
For a moment, no one says anything, no one dares to even breath too loud: the silence is so absolute Cas can start feelings his ear buzzing.  
  
Then, very slowly, like he's afraid they may jump on him, Dean gets up from his chair.  
  
"Angels? Really? You actually expect me to believe you?! Angels do not exist, if they did, I'd know!"  
  
Anna gestures to Dean to sit back down, but of course he doesn't, so she keeps talking in a soft and quiet voice, trying to sound calm and collected, to hide her fears.  
  
"No, Dean. You wouldn't know. We have been... very good at hiding ourselves from humans. You wouldn't know we exist. No one really does, unless we want them to. "  
  
Dean starts to back away, always moving with a measured caution, trying not to make sudden movements: there's fear on his face, in the way he moves, the way he breathes, like he's facing something he can't possibly believe in, something that goes completely against everything he has been taught.  
  
And he cannot deal with it.  
  
"You can leave if you want, Dean. We won't stop you, not even Gabriel. You can get up and leave, but... I thought you wanted to know what's going on. And the only way is listening to us. No one will hurt you, Dean. Even if we wanted, we wouldn't be able to, not in a supernatural way at least. Showing his wings to you weakened Gabriel and... me and Cas... we are not angels anymore. We are practically human now... "  
  
Dean tries to laugh it off and starts pacing trough the room, not looking at them and taking deep breaths to calm down as much as he can: at least, he doesn't leave.  
  
No one tries to stop him or to tell him anything for a few minutes, until he's the one who stops and turns around.  
  
"I'm not buying this crap, I'm seriously not. This is not possible. "  
  
"You said you wanted the truth. This is it, this is the truth: we were angels once, now Gabriel is the only one who still has some powers left. Me and Anna? Ours are completely gone. "  
  
Cas stares at him, trying to stand the eye contact, managing it for a while, before it's Dean that breaks it, going back to sit down.  
  
They stare at each other again, making unspoken words pass between them, trying to ease the tension in the room, to make Dean believe them.  
  
"You're not lying aren't you? You are... you are actually serious..."  
  
"Good job at figuring out, dumbass. "  
  
Cas really wants to punch Gabriel now, just to shut him up.  
  
"Gabriel, please! You're not helping!"  
  
Dean takes his head between his hands and rubs his temples.  
  
"I can't believe this is really happening..."  
  
Anna gently touches his shoulder and he finches a bit, but doesn't pulls away.  
  
"I know it's hard, Dean... but, we're telling you the truth. There'd be no point in lying at this point. "  
  
He nods and takes a deep breath.  
  
"This is all crazy, but I'm going to pretend I believe you. For now... "  
  
Anna smiles at him.  
  
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions... "  
  
"Maybe it's better if I just talk to him alone. "  
  
The sound of his voice surprises him too, like he wasn't ready to hear it and wasn't expecting it: Anna and Gabriel look at him unsure, but Dean avoids his eyes.  
  
"You think you can manage that, little brother?"  
  
Cas nods and prays that, for once, he's actually right.

 

They're sitting in his kitchen now, the door closed and two glasses and a bottle of whiskey in front of them: Cas is already at his second shot, Dean took a couple of sips of his and then put the glass back down, looking at him intently, waiting.  
  
Cas inhales deeply, massaging his temples, trying to form coherent thoughts in his mind: he brings his eyes on Dean, almost asking for help, because he has no idea where to start, what to say to make him understand his point of view.  
  
"So. You promised me to answer all my questions... "  
  
"I did. "  
  
Dean finishes his drink and pours himself another one and Cas notices how his hand is surprisingly steady compared to his own, that shook to the point he almost spilled the liquor all over the table earlier.  
  
"Then you better start talking, Cas. Is that even your real name?!"  
  
He tries to smile, but it doesn't come out that well.  
  
"It is. Sort of. You know my real name, Gabriel told you. "  
  
Dean thinks about it for a couple of seconds, then realizes and nods, more to himself than to him.  
  
"Castiel. That was your real name, that's why you freaked out so bad when I asked you about it. Why Gabriel told me that if he didn't want me to find out?! "  
  
Cas shrugs.  
  
"Maybe on same level he wanted. Or he just wanted to hurt me, making me remember my past. I don't know, I didn't ask. I'm too much of a coward now for things like that. "  
  
"Now?"  
  
"I used to be different, Dean. Oh, I used to be so much different from the wreck you see now... "  
  
"Well, I'm listening. "  
  
Cas tries to smile at him.  
  
"It's going to be a long night, Dean. A very, very long night. You know that right?"  
  
For the first time tonight, Dean's face relaxes and he almost smiles, his mouth slightly curving for a second, before returning flat and hard again.  
  
"Yeah, I figured that much. You better start then, I have all the time in the world. "  
  
"Where do you want me to start from?"  
  
"The beginning. "  
  
Cas empties his glass and refills it, trying to control the tremor of his hand and to ignore the level of the liquid inside the bottle that goes dangerously down; then he takes a deep breath and starts talking.  
  
"About... more than a year and a half ago, I was given a mission from my superiors in Heaven... "  
  
"What mission?"  
  
Cas waves his hand at him and just shrugs.  
  
"It's not important, Dean. Really, it has nothing to do with all this. "  
  
Dean nods and lets it go; Cas tries to find the bundle of his thoughts again, to reorganize them in a clear pattern to make him understand before going on.  
  
" In order to walk the Earth, angels need vessels, a container, something that works like the demonic possession. But it's very different: the vessel has to give its consent or it's almost impossible for the angel to use his body.  
  
So I had to get one for my mission: a man called Jimmy Novak. He was devout to God and gave his consent without arguing. He just made me promise his family would be safe, that Heaven would watch over them and make sure nothing bad happened to them. I did what he asked and started my mission.  
  
It was an easy task actually, I had to locate a very special object and put it under my superiors care; I used to be good at finding things, it was as easy as breathing for me. I'm still good at it, but of course I don't need that ability much anymore, as you can imagine. Well, I finished my mission in a couple of months, my job here on Earth was done... but I decided to stay longer and my superiors allowed me to, there was no need of me back in Heaven and it was my first time on Earth. I guess they wanted to reward me or something... "  
  
A sad smile appears on his lips when he remembers those golden days, when everything looked so easy, effortless and good, when his biggest worry was to make sure no one realized what he was.  
  
"Because I liked it here. I had become quite fond of you humans, of your weird life styles, of everything. I wanted to know, to see, to experience as much as I could. This was like a gift for me, the chance to finally be part of that world I had observed for so long from Heaven... "  
  
"So you just like... kept this guy... Jimmy's body and went on an adventure?"  
  
Cas makes a grim face and gulps down another glass of liquor, wishing he could be already drunk: but some of his old resistance remains and it's hard for him to get stoned enough to forget with so little alcohol in his system.  
  
"I was... different back then. I told you. My emotions weren't... as strong and developped as they're now, I felt like... detached from all this, above it. But I kept checking on Jimmy's family and made sure that he was... not aware of my “adventures” as you call them. I wasn't a very powerful angel, but I had enough powers to do so. He was basically always in a sort of unconscious state and didn't realize what I did with his body and I was going to erase his memory after for good measure. But, in the end, things went in a very different way. For both of us. "  
  
Dean is looking at him with an hard look in his easy, clearly disapproving his past actions: those green eyes stare is heavier than a sentence, seems to scream all his sins and his wrongdoings at him, with a violence he's sure Dean doesn't even realize.  
  
It makes everything feel a million times worst than it already feels.  
  
"I spent several months just traveling around the world, visiting places, meeting people, talking to them, getting to know more of your kind. You humans are fascinating, Dean, truly beautiful and you don't even realize it... And then I met him. "  
  
"Who?"  
  
Cas has to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath before he's able to continue.  
  
"He was... a guy. Just a guy at first, who liked to come sit at my table in this small cafè in New York I used to love going to. Angels don't need to eat or drink or sleep, but I went there anyway because I really liked it... and I really liked him. He was funny, cheerful, always smiling and talking to me like he had known me his whole life... I just became infatuated with him. The weird thing was... that he liked me back. "  
  
Cas doesn't say anything for a few moments, looks at his hands, eyes closed, breathing slowly, his memory going back to remember that face he tried to forget harder than anything. Another failure, another life he couldn't save, another regret he'll never be able to shake off.  
  
"You just fell for him. "  
  
Dean's voice is almost... sweet when he says those words and when he looks at him, Cas can spot a light smile on his face.  
  
Cas returns it.  
  
"I suppose you could say that, yeah. I wasn't like... in love or anything. I don't think I was at least, but... he made me feel like nothing did before. He made me feel, just feel and that was something completely new for me.  
  
Oh, the things he showed me, Dean... I think you can imagine them though. It was like... I don't know, being really alive for the first time for me. I'd been around for a long time, Dean, fought wars, experienced things you simply cannot imagine. And then having sex, waking up next to someone and kissing him meant more for me than anything.  
  
Angels are supposed to be emotionless, strict, only interested in their tasks... I suppose that back then I was already a failure, because I started to wish I could stay here.  
  
Even thought I knew I was going to be called back sooner or later and that I didn't really belong in this world, I wanted to stay, I didn't want those days to end, because I knew the memories would have haunted me forever, making me long for something that I was never going to have, not really, at least. "  
  
Cas smiles sadly, lowering his gaze once more, because the pressure of Dean's eyes and of his memories is too much for him to handle: he just wants to lock himself in his room and throw everything away, getting so drunk he won't be even able to remember his own name and just curl in a ball of oblivion.  
  
But something in the way Dean looks at him seems to give him strength, to take the words out of his mouth and make him go on.  
  
"Of course, life decided for me in the end... "  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"The flu happened, Dean. About seven months ago or something, I was suddenly called back to Heaven, we all were, all the angels who were on Earth at that time. The message was to abandon all missions and to just get back, without any delay. I had changed, during those months on Earth, I was... more human maybe? I don't know. But I was still a soldier, a soldier who followed his orders. So I... I went back. "  
  
Dean stares at him for a moment and Cas forces himself not to look away: his face is unreadable, perfectly still and emotionless and he can't tell what he's thinking, which is even worst than a look of hatred, disgust or understanding.  
  
"Like that? You just went back?"  
  
Cas nods.  
  
"I had no choice, Dean. I brought Jimmy back home and then went back to Heaven. "  
  
"And what happened to that guy? The one you had met... you just... left him?"  
  
He doesn't answer at first, gulps the liquor down and makes a weird face when he realizes the bottle is almost empty, but doesn't get up to get another one.  
  
"I don't know what happened to him, he could still be alive, for what I know. Other... things took over my attention. "  
  
"What things?"  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and rubs his sore and tired eyes.  
  
"Jimmy. It was Jimmy. "  
  
"What happened to him?"  
  
"His daughter and his wife got sick, the flu got them. So he... he started praying to me, asking me to help them, to save them. He pleaded and begged and screamed and I could hear him as clear as I can hear you now. That voice, Dean... I still hear it, in my nightmares...  
  
Our orders were that we couldn't go back on Earth for any reason, apparently it had something to do with the infection, some of my brothers and sister who went investigating never came back and I guess our superiors were worried about it. And I tried to ignore Jimmy's desperate prayers, I tried to block his voice and erase it from my thoughts... but I couldn't do that, I couldn't leave him. "  
  
"You went back. You went back on Earth even thought they told you not to. "  
  
Dean doesn't look surprised and is voice is flat, like he's juszt stating a simple fact, but there's something warm in it, a change in tone that gives him hope; Cas manages to smile and nods at him.  
  
"Yes. I did. I went back. "  
  
"But something went wrong, right?"  
  
"Everything went wrong, Dean every single thing. See, Jimmy wanted me to help his family because they were sick, but he didn't realize he was sick too. And when I got into his body, it was too late. That flu, Dean, there was something very wrong there, because it consumed my powers. I was trying so hard to stay alive that all my powers got drained by that task.  
  
I had to watch Jimmy's wife and daughter die in front of my eyes, tortured by an agonizing pain, crying and begging for help. The woman died quickly, but the girl... that little girl... she was only twelve, Dean, and all I could do was watching her slowly wasting away, calling her father, praying and asking to be saved...  
  
And I could hear Jimmy screaming inside my head, I had no way of stopping it or of keeping him unconscious... he had to see his wife and his daughter die, knowing that nothing could save them, that the relief he had hoped would come for them... was a lie, an illusion, that no one was coming.  
  
I was useless, Dean. Completely useless. "  
  
A tear runs across his cheek and Cas quickly wipes it away, takes a deep a breath to stop himself from breaking down: talking about it makes those memories real again, painful and stinging, carving bleeding wholes into his heart, scratching his soul with their sharp claws, until he's one, small step away from completely falling apart.  
  
The pain feels so strong and so heavy in his chest that even breathing is hard and Cas covers his face so Dean cannot see it written all over it.  
  
"I was dying too, Dean. I wasn't strong enough to fight the pain I felt inside me, what was happening to Jimmy's body. I was about to give up. I just wanted it all to be finally over... "  
  
"But it didn't happen. "  
  
Cas shakes his head.  
  
"Anna came. She saved me. "  
  
"How?"  
  
"She came after me, found me. Her vessel was sick too, so here power were weakened, but less than Jimmy had been and she was stronger than be, always had been. She could have made it back to Heaven, if she wanted. But she didn't, she used some of her powers to keep me alive. And she summoned Gabriel.  
  
He had left Heaven centuries ago, but she knew he was on Earth and made a deal with him. He wanted to get sick so he could cut all his ties with Heaven for good, but Anna knew he still needed someone to make sure his vessel didn't die. She used her last powers to do so and Gabriel fixed me as good as he could.  
  
But I was practically human after. All my powers were gone. Nothing was left, not even a sparkle... I was just a shadow of my former self, a wreck...  
  
"Why didn't Gabriel lose all his powers?"  
  
"He is... much more powerful than me and Anna. We were simple angels, he is... something else. Anyway this is the story, Dean. What came next, how we got here... it's not really important. "  
  
Dean doesn't say anything for a long while and Cas can't blame him: it's a lot to take in, even for someone used to the supernatural like him.  
  
This must completely shake and destroy his believes, his certainties, leaving him confused and lost.  
  
Cas wishes things could be simple again, but now it's too late for that.  
  
Far too late.  
  
"I... I honestly don't know what to say. "  
  
He nods at him, who is massaging his temples and breathing slowly to calm down.  
  
"You don't have to say anything, Dean. "  
  
"I just... I have so many questions, there's so much I don't understand and I just... this... this is all true, right? This is real, it's really happening and I still have an hard time believing it and it's weird because I've seen so much, but this... I don't know how to react to it. "  
  
Cas wants to reach out and touch him, take his hand, just doing something, anything to make him feel better, but he's afraid of the reaction Dean might have, he's too scared of the possible rejection he could face; so he doesn't even though his body longs for it, for a contact that could anchor him to the earth, for something to get a hold to.  
  
"I'm sorry, Dean. I really am sorry you had to find out about all of this. I'm sure it doesn't do any good to you. "  
  
"You were never going to tell me, right?"  
  
Cas shrugs.  
  
"Dean, you're just... a guest in my life. Why would I wanted to tell you things I don't even have the guts to face and that I try so hard to forget? "  
  
"That's why you drink so much. All the booze and the drugs... it's because of this. Because you can't cope with what you were, with what you're now and with... what happened to you... "  
  
Cas smiles sadly.  
  
"If you could hear in your head what I hear... you'd try to dull the pain in every possible way too, to drown it in as much booze as you could handle. And sometimes... even that is not enough to keep the memories away. "  
  
For a while, they just stay in silence, looking at each other, studying the reactions on their faces, trying to find a way, any way, to communicate.  
  
"I'll have to tell Sam, you know that. "  
  
Cas nods.  
  
"Yeah, I know. But... maybe it's better if you just let Anna do it. She's good at explanations and probably Sam will be more willing to believe her than me, since they're much closer. "  
  
Dean thinks about it for a few seconds, then nods.  
  
"Yeah, you're right. "  
  
There's something Cas really wants to ask him, the most important question, the one he fears the most and that, at the same time, pushes harder and harder to come out.  
  
It ends up making him feel like shit again, even more now, making him curse his lack of backbone and his refusal to face the truth, whatever it might be.  
  
He gets up to drink some water, splashing it on his face too in order to come back to his senses.  
  
"I guess I really shouldn't be bringing this up now, but I'm not known for my ability to have tact: what about this... thing between us? What happens now?"  
  
Dean takes a deep breath.  
  
"I don't know, honestly, I really don't. I mean... you... I still... like you, but... knowing all the things I know now... well it changes everything, the way I look at you and oh my God, I had sex with a fucking angel!"  
  
Cas manages to smile at that.  
  
"I'm not an angel anymore, Dean, if that helps. "  
  
"Yeah well, give me a few days and then I'll tell you how I feel about that. "  
  
They both smile and for a moment peace come back between them.  
  
"You should go to sleep. You need to rest to... I don't know... assimilate all these informations, I guess. "  
  
Dean stares at him for a while, without saying anything.  
  
"And you?"  
  
"I'll stay here a while longer. You go. "  
  
"You'll be fine on your own?"  
  
He just tries to laugh it away.  
  
"Still worrying about me even after all this?"  
  
Dean shrugs.  
  
"Yeah. Don't worry. I'll be fine. "  
  
The man in front of his stares at him for a few more moments, before finishing his glass of liquor and then leaving in silence.  
  
He almost wants to follow him, take him to his room and trying to kiss him, to grab and keep him closer, craving his warmth more than everything else.  
  
But he doesn't.  
  
In the end, he never does anything, but letting things happen to him without fighting.

 

Cas stares at nothing for what look like to be hours and hours: his mind numb, his body is so tired it's on the verge of crashing down; he doesn't even know what's keeping him together anymore.  
  
He fucked everything up again, he always does that, ruins everything he touches, kills it, suffocates it and just reduces it to nothing but more pain and regrets that will haunt him forever.  
  
He knows he cannot stay there forever, that he needs to get up and at least try to get some sleep, even though he doesn't think his mind will give him any rest: so he goes through his secret stash and gulps down an handful of sleeping pills, hoping they'll be enough to stone him good.  
  
He gets up with an incredible effort, almost falling down, but still manages to get upstairs and crawl to his room.  
  
Dean is laying on the bed: he's pretending to be asleep, but he's there, curled under the sheets, his back facing Cas; he doesn't know what to do or how to feel about this and what it could mean.  
  
But doesn't dare speaking or asking the other man, fearing his words or even just the sound of his thoughts could break this moment.  
  
Cas feels something that resembles hope inside his chest, while he slides under the covers and sighs when Dean's hand finds his usual spot on his hip: nobody says anything, the only sound are the one of them both breathing softly.  
  
In the end, Cas closes his eyes and breaths deeply, falling asleep in Dean's arms.

 

"Wow. Just... wow... I can't believe this is real, that it's actually happening... "  
  
"It is thought, Sam. It's all true. "  
  
Sam rubs his eyes and takes a couple of slow, deep breaths: his head feels so full, so confused by the amount of informations he just discovered and he's really not sure how to cope with them, how to make them fit in his personal order of things.  
  
"Are you going to freak out? Cause I'm not good at dealing with people that freak out, so before you start you should let me call Anna or your brother. "  
  
He takes his hands off his face and looks at Gabriel, who is lighting a cigarette and avoiding his gaze: he's tense, Sam can tell by the way his hands grip the lighter and shake slightly, by the harsh curve of his shoulders.  
  
"No, I think I'm fine. "  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah, I just... like... need a drink or something. Wow, that's a lot to take in, really a lot. "  
  
Gabriel offers him a beer and Sam gulps down a couple of sips.  
  
"You took it a lot better than your brother, he really couldn't believe we were telling the truth... "  
  
Sam snorts and manages a short laugh.  
  
"Yeah, Dean... Dean is complicated. He has... he's not easy to persuade, when it comes to change his mind. "  
  
"Well, then I'm glad you're not him. "  
  
They stay in silence for a while, lost in their thoughts, not sure what to say or what to do: Sam looks at Gabriel and wonders if knowing what he knows now changes the way he sees him; imagining that he used to be an unearthly and powerful being... well, it's hard, but still, he always had the feeling that something was indeed up there, that there was some very, very dark and hard to explain secrets buried in him and his siblings.  
  
But in the end, Sam thinks, it's in the past anyway, something left behind, but that still hurts and burns, judging by the thoughtful and nostalgic look on Gabriel's face.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
The man frowns, like the question really surprises him.  
  
"Yeah, why?"  
  
"I don't know. You just... I don't know... you look almost sad. "  
  
Gabriel smiles, but that feeling of subtle melancholia remains in his eyes.  
  
"I'm just wondering if this will change what you think of me, one way or another. I don't... get close to people, I don't like getting close to people, because, in the end... everything just goes downhill and I'm bad at dealing with these sort of things. So I stay away... but... I don't know, I guess I just wanted to get to know you. "  
  
"I was wondering about that too. But... I don't think it changes anything, not for me at least. I don't know about Dean, but what you were it's in the past for me. You helped us, you and Anna and Cas. This means more to me than everything else, to be honest. "  
  
Sam smiles at him and Gabriel keeps looking at his face for a while, thinking about his words.  
  
"I'm glad then, really. I must admit I like talking to you, would have been a shame to stop doing it. "  
  
"I like it too. You're a better person than you think, Gabriel. "  
  
Gabriel shakes his head.  
  
"No, I'm not, Sam. I'm a pretty shitty person. I did horrible things, didn't care about what my actions may have caused or about the pain I inflicted. I just kept carrying on, surviving, running away from the problems and from pretty much everything. Running away is what I can do better. "  
  
Sam puts his hand on his arm, holding it and Gabriel looks startled by his gesture, looks at him like he doesn't know how to interpreter it.  
  
"Still, you helped us. Maybe you did it because of Anna at first, but you still did it. You listened to me when I needed it, I can tell you'd do anything to help Anna or Cas. This makes you somebody I like. The rest? I don't even wanna know it, to be honest. "  
  
Gabriel opens his mouth like he wants to say something, replying to him, but nothing comes out: he just smiles, in the end, covering Sam's hand with his own.  
  
"Well, what can I say to that... thank you. It means a lot to hear something like that. "  
  
Sam nods and returns the smile.  
  
Gabriel gets a little bitter closer to him, suddenly, like he's about to hug him or... maybe doing something else, but stops right away, pulling back and not look at him.  
  
But with his hand still on Sam's.

 

They're both on the bed, facing each other, Cas with his back again the headboard, Dean sitting cross legged right in front of him.  
  
"Are you just going to stay there and stare at me for the rest of the night?"  
  
Dean's mouth curves into a little smile and he gets a little closer to the other man: Cas stretches his legs and puts them around his hips, trying to pull him a little closer.  
  
"Well, you're nice to look at. "  
  
Cas turns off his cigarette and sits up so their faces are just a few inches away from touching.  
  
"You said you needed a couple of days to work things out, but it hasn't even been a whole day since... well, since you found out about everything. What made you change your mind?"  
  
Dean shrugs and puts one hand on Cas's leg, massaging it gently, feeling the heat of his body under the fabric.  
  
"I don't know. "  
  
"Was it my undeniable charm?"  
  
Cas caresses his arm with one hand, the other going to rest on his leg and Dean puts one arms around his waist and breathes his scent deeply, holding him there and looking into his eyes: the other man is smiling at him that subtle smile that makes him slowly loose control and want to do things to him he thinks he should not be wanting to do.  
  
Not right now, not after all he found out about him.  
  
And yet there he is, curled around his body, enjoying the warmth and the feelings that touch gives him: Dean closes his eyes and then pulls slightly away so that their bodies are close and yet there's still some sort of distance between them.  
  
"I'm not sure what to think of you after all that, to be honest. And still I... want you. I should... I don't know, look at you and suddenly find that all the... attraction I felt for you gone. But... that just didn't happen. "  
  
Cas relaxes against his body and takes a deep breath.  
  
"That changed everything, didn't it?"  
  
Dean nods.  
  
"I'm not sure how though. "  
  
"Then maybe it just... fixed things, made you understand why I used to freak out so much when you mentioned my past. Because what's in it is far too overwhelming and I can't cope with it. Not yet. Not without falling apart. "  
  
Cas tries to pull back, but Dean keeps him there, not letting him go: the other man rests his head against his shoulder, giving up completely in his arms.  
  
"You're not the only one with a past that it's so hard you can barely cope with it. "  
  
He hears Cas taking a deep breath against his body, his hand caressing his neck while the other gently touches his back: it's good, to be like this with him, in silence, even if it is a different type of silence, an heavier one, one that doesn't feel as comfortable as before.  
  
But it's still something Dean can lose himself into, that manages to keep the worse of what he has in his heart away for a while, allowing him to concentrate on the moment and not on the past: Cas is heavy in his arms, firm and familiar, he's something he can hold to.  
  
When he kisses him, Dean closes his eyes and lets him, tasting his lips, caressing them with his tongue until Cas is breathing a little bit faster, panting when they part: the man grabs his face and caresses it, kissing him again and again, like that's the only thing capable of helping him, of helping them both.  
  
And in that one, only instant, everything vanishes, hidden by something stronger that seems to be able to wipe away all the problems, the doubts, to melt them and erase them from their minds: Cas makes sounds against his mouth that make his blood burn in his veins, his body awake and cling to his.  
  
But then the moment passes, they stop kissing and when Dean looks at him, Cas turns his face away and then slowly pulls away from him, getting up: he goes towards the wardrobe and fumbles in it until he finds a bottle of pills, gulping down some.  
  
"You should take it easy with that stuff. "  
  
Cas lets out an humorless laugh and goes back to sit on the bed, at a safe distance from him.  
  
"Says the functioning alcoholic. "  
  
Dean rubs his temples and sights.  
  
"We are both such wrecks... I can't believe we are both still standing, when we don't even know what's keeping us together... "  
  
"You have Sam. I have Anna and Gabe. Well, more Anna than Gabe, but still: we both have people we care about and that we try so hard not to let down. We fail, of course, people like us fail ninety percent of the times, but still... we try. That's what keep us standing. "  
  
Cas isn't looking at him: he lights another cigarette and focuses on the tiny clouds of smoke that come out of his mouth, standing in the air for a few seconds before disappearing.  
  
"What are we gonna do then?"  
  
Dean's voice is low and almost shy, like the words are forcing their way out of his mouth because a part of his brain refuses to let them go, wants to keep them trapped inside him, together with the rest of the feelings he just cannot allow himself to express.  
  
"What you wanna do, Dean?"  
  
"I just wanna sleep for ages, for the rest of my life, so I can wake up just a few moments before I finally die and then go back to rest again. Forever this time... "  
  
Cas finishes his cigarette in silence, looking at him finally: his eyes are sad and distant, like everything Dean is saying is just inflicting another deep and painful wound in his chest.  
  
He wonders what kind of person Cas was before, when he was still an angel, a powerful being capable of doing things Dean can't even imagine: the hardest part of accepting the truth about him is making these two imagines of him coincide.  
  
He just cannot picture the Cas he knows like that: he's too broken, too lost, a shadows barely alive, but that still seems to fight, that refuses to give up no matter how much everything hurts.  
  
"I'm not sure you can do that, sleeping forever. "  
  
"Yeah, life sucks. "  
  
Cas slides closer to him again and gives him a quick kiss on the mouth.  
  
"But you can sleep with me now. Even if it's only for the night. "  
  
Dean kisses him again, pushing him backwards, until Cas is laying on the bed with him between his legs: he gets down on him and rubs his nose against his neck, the other man's hands in his hair, caressing his head and massaging his scalp, while Dean presses soft kisses on his exposed skin, breaths against it until Cas is sighing under him.  
  
When he gets slightly up, he sees that the other man is smiling at him and smiles back.  
  
Because it looks like the right thing to do, because he wants to.  
  
Then he goes back to kissing him.  
  
Cas's hands slide under his shirt, fingers cold against his hot skin, caressing and touching until they become warm as well: Dean bites his bottom lip when the other man gently scratches his back, making him moan in the kiss.  
  
He grinds his body against his: the friction becomes more and more torturing, making his jeans feel tight around his growing erection.  
  
When they part from the kiss to breath, Cas stares at him with eyes veiled by pleasure and desire, his hands taking his shirt off and then running across his chest; the touches are followed by soft murmurs and whispers that Dean is unable to understand because Cas is breathing them on his skin, kissing and licking it.  
  
Dean starts unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his skin, his fingers shaking while doing so: he can't help but let his hand wander on his body, caressing his chest and enjoying those sweet sounds that Cas makes when they're in bed.  
  
When he's done and they're both shirtless, they look at each other for a few seconds, then Cas starts laughing.  
  
"What? What's so funny?"  
  
"Ah, nothing. But... I thought you wanted to sleep!"  
  
Dean laughs too and kisses him again, like he can't stay away from those lips, like he needs them more than everything.  
  
"We can do that later... "  
  
"Yeah, we can... "  
  
Cas returns the kiss and caresses his neck, moving his tongue against his and trying to get him closer and closer.  
  
"You sure you wanna do this? No sense of guilt? No... fear of going straight to hell because you're fucking an alcoholic ex angel of the Lord?"  
  
Dean looks at him for a while, not moving, just looking at him.  
  
"I'm pretty sure there's already a sit in hell with my name on it. So... I better enjoy myself while I can... "  
  
"I should tell you: “Don't say things like that! God loves you, you can still be saved!”. But the truth is, Dean... that God doesn't give a shit. About any of us. I've seen Heaven, I've seem Hell... in the end... they ain't so different: they're both prisons. One is just cleaner than the other. "  
  
Dean stares at him and tries to deal with that crushed look he reads in his eyes, tries to focus again on the half naked body under his own.  
  
"We better just keep going, then. "  
  
Cas laugh and kisses him.  
  
"Yeah... and you better keep the sit next to yours free for me once you go down there... "  
  
He takes his earlobe between his teeth, gently sucking it until Dean moans.  
  
"So we can have hell hot sex?"  
  
His laugh his a beautiful sound against his ear.  
  
"Sounds good to me... "  
  
In the end, Dean realizes, it doesn't matter what Cas is or was, what his secrets are, what they both hide inside themselves: what's important is his hot, real and firm body under his, the way he claws at his back while they have sex, his moans and pleads and whispers.  
  
Everything else just stops mattering when Dean closes his eyes and focuses on what his body feels.  
  
Cas trashes under him, his eyes veiled and consumed by lust and every time Dean pushes inside him, he makes those beautiful noises that seems to get under his skin, carving marks on it, inside his body, on his lungs that burns at every breath he takes, on his heart that beats so fast he fears it'll fail him: Cas is everywhere on him.  
  
Dean can smell him, can taste him and nothing changed about it, he's still the same, feels exactly like he did before.  
  
He almost wishes he didn't, because if he had, maybe Dean would not feel still so attached and drawn to him like he does, maybe he would be able to push Cas away, to detach himself from... whatever it is that they have, this devouring passion that seems to be eating them alive and that will soon spit them out changed and more damaged than they were before.  
  
Dean grabs his face and stop moving inside him for a moment, looking at him like he wants to hurt him in some way, any way, to make this feel less good than it does, to push him away: Cas's breath is rushed his eyes are so big and unfocused, his hair disheveled and messy.  
  
He looks at him with a confused expression for a second, before sliding his hands on the one that is holding his face, caressing the skin, rising to his shoulder: Dean can't help but letting go, getting down and kissing him slowly, savoring his lips, licking them and breathing and moaning against his neck when he can't take it anymore and needs to breath again.  
  
Cas caresses his back and Dean feels closer and closer to the orgasm; every thrust, every movement, every touch seems to happen just to make him lose the little control he has left, leaving only this raw need for Cas that he feels and that burns him from the inside.  
  
Cas comes before him, letting out a strangled moan that he tries to silence by biting his shoulder: Dean pushes inside him a couple of time more, before following, spent and out of breath, reduced to a barely able to realize he's still alive shell.  
  
He rolls on his back after regaining some strength and sense: the cold air hits his sweaty and hot skin making him shiver.  
  
Cas covers then both with the blanket and then crawls against him, his head going to rest on his chest, caressing it with the tips of his fingers, creating imaginary patterns and pressing gentle kisses there on his skin.  
  
Dean sighs heavily and runs an hand through his hair, on his neck and his back, sliding it over his scars.  
  
For a few minutes they just stay like this: they're both tired, but unable to sleep, touching like they just can't bear to be apart from each other just yet: Dean wishes he could say something that would change the undeniable truth that this moment will just bring more pain and sadness to them in the future, something that could make things better.  
  
But there's nothing, absolutely nothing that would work.  
  
It's a loaded bomb that's just waiting to explode in their faces.  
  
Dean closes his eyes and focuses on Cas breathing on his skin: just for a while more, he doesn't want to think.  
  
Just for a few more minutes, he wants to feel mostly ok.

 

"Where did you get these?"  
  
Cas tuns his head to face him, his eyes sleepy and veiled, but he still gets slightly up to look better at him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"The scars on your back. "  
  
"Oh, those. "  
  
He tries to smile and settles better on his chest so he can look at him, but not leaving his comfortable spot.  
  
"That's where my wings were. "  
  
Dean swallows hard, feeling his throat dry: of all the things he had imagined, this really wasn't on the list.  
  
"You lost your wings?"  
  
Cas nods, like it's no big deal, but Dean knows better now, knows that behind his small smiles there's a whole world hidden: a painful and heartbreaking one.  
  
"Yeah... when the last bits of my powers were drained... I lost them too. It was painful. And bloody. An ugly affair, be glad you weren't there to see. I was in pain for days and days... I thought I was going to die. Hell, I wanted to die... but I lived in the end. I survived that too. Lucky me. "  
  
Dean looks at him feeling suddenly bad about bringing it up, because even though Cas tries to pretend that it doesn't really touch him or matters anymore, it's clear that it does: he can read it in his eyes, in the way his face tries so hard to maintain a smile.  
  
So he caresses his hair gently, stroking his neck and his naked shoulder: Cas gets up and kisses him, to distract both of them from feelings that run too deep to be uncovered now, because they're not ready for that yet.  
  
Dean returns the kiss while caressing his back and holding him closer, so Cas's head can rest against his neck after they part, his breath hot against his skin, his body heavy on his, but he doesn't try to shake him off, because that closeness makes him feel less lost and lonely.  
  
Gives him a warm feeling.  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. "  
  
"It's ok. Really. Don't worry about it. "  
  
Cas kisses the curve of his neck: then his fingers brush against his tattoo, following its pattern carefully.  
  
"What is this really for? I never asked... "  
  
"It's an anti"possession tattoo. "  
  
Cas laughs against his skin and then kisses him there, following the lines with his lips and his tongue: Dean sighs and keeps stroking his hair.  
  
"Of course. I should have known. It's so... you. Always prepared for everything. "  
  
"I'm not. There are things... no one can be prepared for. "  
  
The other man stares at him, an heavy weight on his chest that he wouldn't be able to shake off even if he wanted to, and he doesn't, because a part of him would still try to keep him there, would crave that contact and that feeling.  
  
"I suppose you don't wanna talk about it... "  
  
Dean thinks about it for a while and Cas takes a deep breath, shifting so he can still lay on him, but in a more comfortable way for both of them: his head is back on his shoulder.  
  
"My father killed himself. He was sick and was... afraid of losing control and attacking us. Some people... they became violent and he was afraid for me and Sam. So he shot himself to protect us and I... and I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't stop him. I just... let him do it and went out of the room... I can still hear the gunshot echoing in my head... I should have stopped him, helped him somehow, but... "  
  
Cas kisses him gently and silences him.  
  
Dean doesn't even know why he's telling this to Cas, opening his heart to him like that: maybe a part of him feels like he has to, since the other man revealed his past to him.  
  
But it's not just that: for the first time since it happened, he feels the need to say it out loud, to finally accept what happened and, maybe, start to cope with it.  
  
"Dean... I... I'm sorry... "  
  
Dean kisses him again and holds him close.  
  
"I'm so tired, Cas... so tired of everything... "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and caresses his face gently, pressing soft kisses on his neck.  
  
"Then sleep, you need to sleep. "  
  
"I think we both need to do that. "  
  
Dean nods and turns off the light, while still holding him close.  
  
"Goodnight, then. "  
  
Cas's answer is a fast kiss on his lips, then the silence swallows them.

 

Dean knew this day was going to come sooner or later. He thought he was prepared, really.  
  
But when Gabriel comes to the house and tells them in a serious and almost sad voice that the piece they need for the Impala is going to arrive in three or four days... Dean realizes that he really, really wasn't.  
  
He can see Cas's face falling completely, turning into an emotionless mask and then a sad look appearing on it.  
  
"Wow. That's great. "  
  
Not even Sam sounds happy about it, but he still thanks Gabriel and manages to find something good to say, while Dean's eyes are fixed on Cas, on the way he's trying to find a way to just get out of the room and not looking at him in any possible way.  
  
He talks to Gabriel for a few minutes about mundane things like payments and shit, while what he really wants is just trying to shake Cas out of his numbness.  
  
The other man lights a cigarette and gulps down a glass of some liquor when he thinks no one can see him.  
  
When they're finally alone, Dean waits for a few moment before doing anything.  
  
Then he tries to get closer to him, puts an hand on his shoulder, but the other man has no reactions: he just sits at the table, his eyes unfocused.  
  
"You... must be happy. You can finally leave and go find that man, Bobby. "  
  
Cas's voice is surprisingly steady when he finally speaks: Dean almost expected it to be broken with held back tears and doesn't know if he feels disappointed or happy that it's not.  
  
"Yeah. Sounds like. "  
  
"It was going to happen sooner or later. We knew it. "  
  
Dean doesn't say anything: he sits down next to him and they just stay there in silence for a while, lost in their thoughts.  
  
Feeling that the borrowed time they were living on until now, it's really, really running out.

 

Sam knocks on Gabriel's door, later that evening, the cold air of the night attacking his hands and his face with a cruel harshness while he stands on the porch.  
  
When the man opens the door, they stare at each other for a few moments: then Gabriel tries to smile.  
  
" Well, that's a surprise. Didn't really expected to see you so late. "  
  
"I hope I'm not bothering you. "  
  
"Not at all, come in before you turn into a snowman or something!"  
  
They go sit in the kitchen and Gabriel hands him an hot cup of coffee, that Sam drinks happily and that dissipates the cold from his body.  
  
For a few minutes, they just stay there in silence, subtly looking at each other.  
  
"I'm sure you didn't go outside in this weather and at this hour just to drink coffee with me, Sam. What you need?"  
  
Sam tries to smile.  
  
"Is it that obvious?"  
  
"Nah, you're a decent actor there. But hey, people don't come to me for my pretty face and my smooth talk. Usually, they need something. "  
  
"I like talking to you, though, I usually come for that!"  
  
Gabriel smiles and nods.  
  
"True. But not this time. "  
  
Sam makes a face and shakes his head. He feels guilty, but this can't wait and he has to force himself and just say what he has to.  
  
"I know you already did a lot for us and if I had any way to do this without your help, I really would... "  
  
"Sam just... tell me, ok?"  
  
Gabriel lights a cigarette and looks at him, waiting: Sam takes a deep breath.  
  
"You still... have some of your powers, right?"  
  
"Yeah, nothing much, but I do. Why?"  
  
"Could you... could you find Bobby? The man my brother and I are trying to reach? Could you tell us if he's a still alive?"  
  
Gabriel stares at him for a few moments.  
  
"Why you only ask that now? You have known what I am for... almost a week. "  
  
"Because... now it's real. We're about to leave and... maybe if he's dead... there'll be no point. Maybe we could stay here. But we need to know for sure. "  
  
"And if he is? Still alive, I mean."  
  
Sam inhales deeply.  
  
"Then we will go find him. "  
  
They stare at each other and Sam can feel something in Gabriel's gaze, a weight, an hidden pains that make him wish he could just... do something to ease it somehow, that he could spare him all this, another separation, another loss.  
  
But he can't unless he's sure that there's nothing left out there for them, that they're truly alone: because if Bobby is still in this world, they have to find him; they own him too much to just give up on him and move on.  
  
And Dean would never be able to do that anyway, knowing him and he can't leave him again, even though Sam would give... anything to just be able to stop moving, to stay there, where he feels he could be, if not happy, maybe at least at peace, living a quiet and simple life.  
  
"I could lie to you, to keep you here. I'm totally capable of doing something like that and it wouldn't even be the worst thing I've done in my existence. "  
  
Sam smiles weakly.  
  
"I suppose I'll have to trust you then. And I do. I trust you. "  
  
"Why? You don't even know me for real!"  
  
"I know but... I just do. Don't ask me why. I just... feel I can trust you. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I'm right. It's up to you to prove which one it is. "  
  
Gabriel takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes: Sam doesn't say anything, just gives him the time to think.  
  
"I need something this man touched and I cannot guarantee it'll work, I don't know how strong my powers still are, I could fail. Be prepared for this option. "  
  
Sam nods and hands him an old baseball cap Bobby gave to Dean years ago and that his brother kept as a lucky charm.  
  
"Is this good enough?"  
  
Gabriel takes it and weights it in his hands for a moment: then nods.  
  
"That's enough. "

 

"He's alive. "  
  
That's the only thing Gabriel says when he come back: he's pale and his forehead is damp with sweat; Sam gets up and help him to sit down, pouring him a glass of water to help him recover.  
  
"Are you ok?"  
  
Gabriel needs a few moments before he's able to answer and even then he just nods, gulping all the water down slowly.  
  
Sam keeps his hand on his shoulder, gently touching him, rubbing his back but trying not to stay too close to him to give him some space and air.  
  
"I'm fine. Sorry. That... kinda drained me. "  
  
"You should have let me come with you. "  
  
"No, it was better this way. "  
  
He nods and sits next to him, still touching his shoulder.  
  
"He's alive, your friend. I found him. "  
  
"You know where he is exactly?"  
  
"In a place called Lawrence, Kansas. "  
  
"That's... that's where we used to live, my family. Before my mother died... "  
  
Gabriel nods, but doesn't look at him, keeps his eyes on the table in front of him.  
  
"Well... it's good, right? Now you know for sure. Now... you and your brother can... leave. "  
  
Sam doesn't say anything, because all the words just stay buried inside his throat, unable to come out.

 

The last day before they leave, Dean wakes up early after sleeping for maybe a couple of hours: he feels tired, his eyes are heavy and weary, but there's no way he can rest, because his mind just keeps working and working, fighting against the idea of leaving, trying to make him change his plans somehow.  
  
Cas is sleeping, curled against him, half naked, his breath warm against his skin: he caresses his back and almost wants to start kissing and biting him to wake him up, but instead decides to take his time to look at him, at the way he looks while he sleeps in the morning light, because that's the last time he'll be able to do that.  
  
They spent the last few days still trying to pretend that nothing was going to happen, mostly having sex and not talking too much, because talking seemed to make things become suddenly real.  
  
Cas even managed to borrow an old Polaroid camera from someone, taking a few pictures of him.  
  
"So I'll not forget your face. "  
  
Dean secretly took one of him too, when the other man was almost asleep on the couch, stuffing it quickly into his pocket.  
  
And now they're there: that's it, it's almost all over; in a few hours he and Sam will be back on the road and everything they've seen and done there will be in the past.  
  
Cas moans in his sleep, tightening his hug around Dean's body, dissipating his thoughts for the moment.  
  
He runs an hand through his hair, to memorize how they feel under his palm and his fingers: Cas moans and opens his eyes, looking up at him confused for a moment, before smiling and putting his head back on his chest.  
  
"I should probably say something, but I'm still too tired to think. Sorry. "  
  
"It's ok. You don't have to. "  
  
The other man presses a couple of soft kisses on his skin.  
  
"Yeah, I should. This is the last time we'll wake up together... "  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and looks away from him, unable to handle the weight of those eyes, even though they're surprisingly calm: and maybe that's really the problem.  
  
Maybe he expected Cas to be the weaker, to be the one who would be broken by the impeding separation: instead he's quiet and rational, handling it with a resigned smile and a sad look in his eyes.  
  
It's like he has already given up on everything and just resorted to accept what's about to happen with the serenity of a convict on the death row who's about to be executed and has finally accepted his fate.  
  
Dean kisses him, to distract himself from those thoughts, and focuses on his lips, on the way they seems to fit against his perfectly, on the way Cas' body curls to fit better against his.  
  
"I'm gonna miss this... I'm pretty sure I said it already... "  
  
"Yeah, you did... "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath against the curve of his neck before getting up to grab a cigarette from the bedside, sitting down next to him and smoking in silence for a while.  
  
"You never... asked me to stay... "  
  
Dean feels slightly embarrassed by the way those words come out, with an almost disappointed tone that just make him sound... weak and he hates it so much he wishes he could take them back and forget he even thought about it; Cas looks at him surprised.  
  
"You wanted me to?"  
  
"No, I just... I don't know. People usually do that, I guess. "  
  
Cas stares at him for a moment.  
  
"Yeah, they probably do... But there's no point in asking you to stay, because you're not going to no matter how much or in what way I ask you to, so... I'm just trying to spare myself some pain. "  
  
Dean just nods, without looking at him.  
  
For a while they don't say anything: Dean can feel the other man's eyes on him, but doesn't turn to face him, just keep laying on the bed, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.  
  
Until Cas crawls and sits on top of him, caressing his chest slowly.  
  
"Please, just... let's just do something, ok? I don't wanna talk. "  
  
"You never want to. "  
  
"Neither do you. "  
  
Dean inhales deeply against his lips, when the other man gets down to brush them against his own, putting his arms around him and keeping him close, feeling his body warm against his, following the line of his spine with his fingers.  
  
Cas kisses him, hard, pushing him down into the mattress and keeping him there with his weight.  
  
"All I want... is having a lot of last day sex with you. Really a lot of it... I don't wanna talk, I don't wanna think. I just want you to fuck me until I can't take it anymore. Ok?"  
  
Dean stares at him for a moment and then kisses him again.  
  
They spend the rest of the morning in bed, in a messy confusion of limbs and sheets, until they both fall asleep entangled together and buried under the covers, exhausted and sweaty.  
  
Dean stays awake a while longer and stares at Cas sleeping in his arms, kisses his closed eyes, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, wishes he could just go on and do that to his whole body, but then the tiredness kicks in and he's asleep with his lips still pressed against the curve of his neck.

 

They say goodbye in the afternoon: to Anna who hugs both of them so tight Dean can't help but wonder where a girl like her takes so much strength, maybe some sparkle of angelness is still there.  
  
Anna tries very hard not to cry when she hugs Sam, but a couple of tears escape her eyes.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you, both of you. Really. I just... I just cannot imagine this place without you idiots anymore!"  
  
"We'll miss you too. "  
  
"Oh you better!"  
  
"Take care, ok? You'll be a great mom, I'm sure of that. "  
  
Dean leaves them alone for a few minutes, after congratulating her for the baby and everything: then he just stands outside the shop, remembering the day they arrived.  
  
It seems to be a life time from that and he feels so different even though apparently nothing changed for him: but it did.  
  
He met Cas, he discovered things he never imagined possible, experienced a slash of normal life that will haunt him with memories that will just hurt more and more every time he'll think about them.  
  
Gabriel doesn't bother coming, so after they leave Anna they just go back to the house: Sam looks sad, but Dean has no idea what he could say to make him feel better and his brother, probably reading his mind, doesn't try to make him talk.  
  
"We are doing the right thing, right? Leaving, I mean. "  
  
"I don't know what else we could do, Sam. "  
  
Sam nods and doesn't press the issue further.  
  
Dean almost wishes he had.

 

"I don't... like doing it like this, Dean. "  
  
Sam is standing next to him, while he finishes packing the Impala, looking at him with a sad expression that Dean tries to ignore, because he really doesn't need that right now.  
  
"It's better, trust me. "  
  
"It's just... leaving in the middle of the night? Why?"  
  
"Because goodbyes are never a pretty moment, ok? They suck and they always hurt like a bitch, so why for just one time don't we try to spare us some pain?"  
  
"But... what about Cas?"  
  
Dean takes a deep breath and still doesn't look at Sam: he left Cas asleep, walked out of the room like a coward, trying to be as silent as possible, not even getting down to kiss him one last time for the fear of waking him up.  
  
But he can still feel the warmth of his body against his own, the faint scent of his skin in his nose and his taste in his mouth: he needs a minute to calm down enough to put the last bag in the car and close the trunk.  
  
"Let's just go, Sam, ok?"  
  
He rubs the bridge of his nose and his temple, inhaling the cold air of the night and hoping it'll anesthetize his senses and keep his mind from indulging in the memories of the man he left: a part of him thinks that Cas will understand why he did it like this, in silence and in the dark, because he's like him, losing people is terrible for him and if he can, he tries to get over it in the less painful way possible.  
  
But another tells him that this will do nothing, that it'll still hurt and that maybe his abandonment will just add more and more suffering to the ones Cas already keeps inside him.  
  
"Dean... "  
  
"What?"  
  
Sam points at the door with a little movement of his head and Dean finds Cas standing on the porch and looking at them, an unreadable expression on his face.  
  
Nothing ever goes as he plans, fuck it.  
  
"Give me five minutes, ok?"  
  
Sam just nods and goes sitting into the Impala, while Dean walk toward the other man.  
  
"I thought you were sleeping. "  
  
Cas tries to smile.  
  
"Good that I wasn't then. "  
  
They just stare at each other for a moment, the moonlight reflecting into Cas's blue eyes, making them look as bright as gemstones, but sad and veiled in a way that makes his heart hurt and bleed.  
  
"I... I just... "  
  
"I know. You don't have to say anything. "  
  
But Dean needs to, there's one question he needs to ask him now, before it's too late, before he leaves everything, including him, behind forever.  
  
"Come. Come... with us. "  
  
Cas stares at him for a long moment, his face surprised and almost confused: then he just shakes his head and smiles sadly.  
  
"Oh, Dean... you know I can't... "  
  
"Why?! What... what you have here?"  
  
"And what would I do if I come with you? Become a hunter? No, Dean, that's not my life. This is my place, here. "  
  
Cas caresses his face gently and comes closer to kiss him, just a faint touch of his mouth against his.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you... I'm really gonna miss you, you stupid son of a bitch. "  
  
Dean bites his lips when he hears Cas laugh against his lips and brings him down for another kiss, holding him close for one last time, because then the other man lets go and takes a couple of steps back.  
  
"You should go now. "  
  
They exchange one last, long look, before Dean nods and starts walking away.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you too, Dean... "

 

Cas goes back inside the house, because he's not strong enough to stand out there and watch him go away: so he hides behind a door that still cannot protect him completely, because he can feel the engine being started and the sound of the car leaving.  
  
He sits on the floor right there, his back against the solid wood and takes his head between his hands.  
  
The house is quiet and empty now and the only sound is his soft and muffled cry.

**to be continued...**


	7. We'll climb that bridge after it's gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The title comes from the song "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" by Bob Dylan.  
> 2\. So this is the end: thank you to the people who read this ^^ I hope you liked this story.  
> 3\. I love comments and if you feel like making me know what you thought of this story, I'd be the happiest person ever ^^.

**Chapter 7  
We'll climb that bridge after it's gone**

_Ten months later_  
September is a good month, Cas thinks while he watches Anna playing with her baby daughter, smiling and cuddling her, her red hair bright and radiant in the sun.  
  
It's a good month because it's warm, but not as sticky, hot and unpleasant as the ones of the summer that is about to end, but it's not as cold as the winter that is coming.  
  
It's a month of quiet changes and subtle transformations, something slow and easy that he can deal with without feeling too cut out from everything, because the world around him is moving too fast and he's always left behind in the end.  
  
September gives him the illusion that he can control his life, that he can get ready for what will come, taking his time.  
  
It's never true: in the end, the world still swallows him and spits him out broken, but it's a beautiful day and maybe he can still hope.  
  
A part of his mind reminds him that September is also the month that brought Dean into his life: the memory stings, pokes at the still open wounds in his heart that seems to start bleeding and hurting again every time he thinks of him.  
  
He should be over Dean by now, after so much time, so many months... but he's not: it's all still so fresh and clear in his mind, everything, even the smallest details, like the way his fingers felt against his skin or how Dean used to kiss him during sex...  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and wishes he could just light up a cigarette, but he stopped smoking around Anna since he found out she was pregnant and would never hurt Elizabeth.  
  
He feels he needs to protect her, both of them, feels responsible for them even though there's no need to be, because Victor is a good man that takes always good care of his family in a loving way that makes him almost jealous.  
  
Because he'll never have something like that, will never experience the warm and peaceful feeling of truly belonging somewhere, of having someone that takes cares of him.  
  
Or maybe he just feels so responsible for them because of the huge debt he still has with Anna, one that will never be able to pay back.  
  
Not even in a million years.  
  
"You ok?"  
  
Cas comes back to the present when Anna's voice reaches his ears, almost startling him because he was so far away in his thoughts he couldn't hear her talking.  
  
"Mh? Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry. I was just thinking. "  
  
"About?"  
  
Cas smiles softly.  
  
"About how fast she's growing!"  
  
Anna's eyes bright up when Elisabeth is mentioned and she turns towards her, hugging her.  
  
"Yeah, she really is!"  
  
Cas observes them and feels that some of his sadness goes away, replaced by a sort of warm feeling in his heart: the memories are still there, creeping in his mind, but it gets better somehow.  
  
"But you weren't think about her. What was it?"  
  
He just shrugs and scratches his head, looking away from hi sister.  
  
"Were you thinking about Dean?"  
  
Anna puts an hand on his and squeezes it, but Cas doesn't say or do anything, he just keep staring at nothing, like she didn't say anything at all.  
  
"Maybe I was... "  
  
"You miss him, don't you?"  
  
Cas tries to smile, but the muscles of his face seems to be stuck and he fails.  
  
"Sometimes. Well... every time I think about him actually. But it's ok, really, I can handle them, sis, no need for you to worry about me. "  
  
Anna inhales deeply and looks at him sadly, making Cas feel guilty about it, because apparently he just keeps pulling her into his problems no matter how hard he tries to avoid it.  
  
"You can talk to me, ok? I'm always here for you, you know that. "  
  
"I know, I know. Thank you. But you know, it's not that bad, I really can handle it. It's just... "  
  
Cas thinks about it for a moment, trying to find the right way to make what's in his mind come out.  
  
"He made me feel alive. For the first time since... since all those things happened, I felt alive. He was just as damaged as me, maybe even deeply than I am, but he made me feel good. So, yeah, I miss him. I miss they way he could just... make make me forget everything for a while, I miss waking up and finding him sleeping next to me or looking at me. I... but he's gone and he won't come back so there no point in torturing myself with this. They are just memories that hurt and that I should probably try to forget. "  
  
Anna takes his hand and holds it.  
  
"But memories are important, Cas. They define what you are, you should treasure them, not... leaving them behind and pretend they never existed. You shouldn't forget them, even if they hurt and it feels like you just cannot stand them any longer. "  
  
Cas lets out a bitter laugh and looks away again, because Anna can read inside him far too well, knows him better than anyone and can understand what he's thinking about so easily.  
  
"I'm not sure having more memories that just make me want to die is a good thing. But maybe you're right: maybe I tried too hard to forget, to put everything behind me. It's just... that I don't know what else I should do: I've spent so much time running away that I'm not sure I can stop anymore. "  
  
His mind is so full of images, of memories, of things that he tried to push away and it's overwhelming, it's almost too much for him to handle: every single one is a stab of pain, something that rips his heart and his soul apart, making him bleed; but some hurt less, some are small rays of hope, almost of happiness and Cas tries to cling to those.  
  
Dean's green eyes shining in the sun, his face open into a bright smile; his hands on his naked back, caressing his skin and making him moan and whimper; the feeling of his lips against his.  
  
"He asked me to go with them, you know? But I said no because... because I was too scared, not of the life they do of course, but of the possibility I could have been, maybe, actually happy. When you're convinced that you're not even worth of the air you're breathing, the mere thought of your life finally going in the right direction it's just too much. So I let him go. I just let him go. And maybe I turned my back to the best thing that ever happened to me. "  
  
Anna holds his hand a little bit tighter, but Cas cannot face the hurt and pained look in her eyes, it's too much for him: he watches Elizabeth instead, who fell asleep in her stroller while they were talking.  
  
He smiles at her, at her sweet face that thankfully is still peaceful and happy, in a way that his own will probably never will again.  
  
"I'm sorry, Cas. "  
  
"God, I really need a cigarette right now!"  
  
He tries to laugh it off, to put all those things back in the darkest corner of his mind, where he can pretend they don't exist and that they don't hurt.  
  
"You look better. "  
  
Cas turns to face her, a confused expression on his face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You don't drink as much as you used to, you don't take those damn pills anymore: ye,s you still smoke like a chimney and have the worst life style ever, but... you look better. You're fighting your demons: maybe you think you're not because you're starting with the smaller one and just with one at a time, but you still are.  
  
You come to the shop to help most of the days, have dinner with me and Victor, you don't just bury yourself into your house like you used to. So maybe, maybe, Dean leaving broke your heart, but meeting him, knowing him made you better. Because Cas, when I look at you now I can finally see glimpses of the brother I used to know and that I thought I had lost forever. "  
  
Cas looks at her right in the eyes, at the kindness they have inside: and for a moment he finds himself wondering if what she's saying it true, hoping that it is, that he still has a chance to live a life that will not be completely wasted in the end.  
  
That there's still something he has to give, that not everything is lost.  
  
"I hope you're right, Anna. I really, really hope so. "

 

Cas is looking at his reflection in the mirror, something he always tries to avoid doing, because seeing that face, what is now his face, just triggers memories he's still not strong enough to cope with: but he's doing it now, trying very hard not to look away, not to give in to his basic instinct of running away.  
  
Sometimes he manages to forget that the face he sees it's not really his own, that it's nothing but a constant reminder of all his mistakes, of his sins, of his desperate attempts to do good that ended up only destroying lives and not saving anyone.  
  
That was Jimmy's body, he used to live in there, he had a life, a family and Cas... Cas took it all away and for what? A mission? The desire of discovering more about the human nature?  
  
And just when he was finally free from him, when he was able to go back to him life, that life ceased to exist.  
  
Cas touches his face, explores it with his fingers, tracing imaginary patterns on it: there's nothing left of Jimmy inside him now, only his memories, still in his brain, but he's dead, gone forever.  
  
He remembers how he begged and screamed for his family's life, the heartbreaking way his voice sounded, ripping his heart apart, shooting in his head loud and clear; but he was useless, could only watch as the life of that man who gave him his body, his life, his trust, was destroyed.  
  
It all looked so much easier when he was still an angel, when he felt detached from the world and nothing seems to matter more than a grain of sand: but he doesn't miss what he was, he welcomes the change, the feelings even if they hurt, because, even though he's a wreck, he still tried to fight, didn't turn his head to look away.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jimmy. I'm so sorry. I... I tried, I really did but... nothing is going to make it better, nothing is going to change what happened to you and your family, but I like to think that you're all at peace now. Together in Heaven. If that still exists... "  
  
Cas takes a deep breath and keeps watching the reflection: his eyes are tired, his body is thin, but he looks better compared to the way he looked a year ago.  
  
Maybe meeting Dean, getting to know him, having him in his life for a while, closer than everyone had been before made a difference: maybe it made him stronger and helped him understand something he ignored or overlooked.  
  
That this is his own life now, something he should treasure and live as good as he can, no matter how broken he feels inside, how strong the pain is.  
  
"I'll try, Jimmy. I'll try. "  
  
Cas smiles at the reflection, inhales deeply and then, very slowly, starts shaving his beard off.  
  
He was was always scared about doing it himself, fearing to give in to the dark desires of ending his own life, so he always made Anna do it.  
  
But now it's different, he's different.  
  
And there's a strength in him that he never thought he could still have in him: it steadies his hand.  
  
Gives him hope.

 

It's funny how the most important things seem to happen on the most mundane and uninteresting days: Cas still hasn't completely grasped the concept of how it's the event itself that makes a date special, not the other way around.  
  
In Heaven there was no time, no calendars, no dates: the special moments were just special, they had no day or month or year: and after living for millions of years in a certain way, it's hard to get used to something so different.  
  
It's in November, afternoon and there's still some light outside, but the night is advancing quickly, starting to cover everything with its dark shroud, when it happens.  
  
There's a knock on the door and Cas gets up from the couch with an heavy sight, hoping it's just Anna and not someone else he'd have to talk to, cause he really doesn't feel like.  
  
He opens the door and there's Dean in front of him.  
  
The dying light of the day runs through his hair, brights up his green eyes, making him look unreal and Cas has to fight hard against the instinct of shutting the door in his face or touching him to make sure he's real or maybe both things, he doesn't really know, because he's brain isn't working properly at the moment.  
  
"Wow. Amazing. I'm not even drunk or high and I'm hallucinating. Finally it happened, I lost my mind. Just perfect. "  
  
Dean laugh and Cas doesn't know what to do: maybe he should get closer? Or maybe he should just stay there and wait for him to say something? To make a move?  
  
All he can do is staring at him, looking at him, at that face he dreamed about for a whole year even though he tried so very hard to forget it, to forget Dean.  
  
"You're not going mad, I'm right here. I'm real, Cas. And... wow. You look... so different. "  
  
"In a good way or in a bad way?"  
  
The man in front of him puts an hand on his neck and Cas closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, feeling Dean's skin warm against his own, real and firm: he smiles when he looks at him again.  
  
"In a good way. "  
  
Dean comes closer to him, still touching, making him want to just grab him and kiss him hard, pulling him inside the house and then pushing him against the closed door, grinding his body against his.  
  
But he lets go after a moment and Cas takes a deep breath.  
  
"Let's go inside. "  
  
Dean closes the door behind them, while he tries to find something to do, something to say that would put an end to awkwardness that has formed between them.  
  
"Do you... what something to drink or... I don't know... anything?"  
  
"Yeah, something to drink would be nice. "  
  
They go sit on the couch, two beers in their hands, keeping a safe distance between their bodies: Cas tries not to look at him, keep his eyes in front of himself, but can feel Dean's on him, exploring his face and the way he's tense and nervous.  
  
For a while, they don't say anything, they just stay there in silence, waiting: until Dean puts his half empty bottle on the table and slides an hand on his leg; only then Cas turns to face him and shivers lightly at the touch.  
  
"So you're back... "  
  
Dean nods and smiles again.  
  
"Yeah, I'm back. "  
  
Cas nods as well, absently, and lights a cigarette, offering one at Dean, who takes it just like he used to, making him light it for him: it's a comforting gesture, that seems to bring them closer again.  
  
"You really look different. "  
  
"Yeah? How?"  
  
"Maybe it's the lack of the beard. "  
  
He smiles.  
  
"Yeah, thought it was time for a change. Time to put some parts of my past behind me and move on. "  
  
Dean breaths out the smoke; Cas just stares at him and as the minutes go by, he feels more and more compelled to just grab him, to touch him in every possible way, like he needs the feelings of his skin under his hands and fingers again more than he needs to breathe.  
  
"Why you're here Dean?"  
  
The other man kinda stiffs at the question, removing his hand from his leg.  
  
"I... I don't know. "  
  
"Is Sam with you?"  
  
"Yeah, he said he had something to do and that I should... sort things out with you my own. "  
  
Cas inhales deeply.  
  
"I missed you, Cas. "  
  
He closes his eyes and lets those words sink into his brain, working their way to his heart that starts beating faster at the little hope that they bring with them.  
  
"Yeah? You missed me enough to come back here? After a year?"  
  
His voice comes out bitter, almost hurt and he hates himself for that: he let Dean go, he could have followed him or worked out a way to make him stay, but he didn't; he has no real reasons to feel like this, but he does and it hurts.  
  
Dean doesn't reply for a few moments.  
  
"I guess. "  
  
"And what if I... like... were over you at this point? What if you coming back here meant nothing to me? Did you think about all this? Or just got into your car with your brother and... "  
  
Cas leaves the sentence hanging and rubs his eyes, taking a deep breath and then looking at Dean, who hasn't moved or anything, just kept his eyes fixed on him.  
  
"Yeah, I thought about all that. That's why it took me so long to come back. Once we found Bobby, he's ok by the way, went back to his house in Sioux Fall. "  
  
"I'm glad to hear that. "  
  
"I didn't know what to do, we stayed with him for a few months, trying to get our lives back together, but... it just wasn't right. We tried hunting like we used to, but you don't get many cases these days and in the end we just.. didn't know what to do.  
  
And I missed you, Cas, believe me or not I missed you. And Sam missed living here too, this was the first place where he had been able to really live like he wanted to since our father's death. "  
  
"So you just decided to come back?"  
  
Dean nods.  
  
"Yeah, we just decided to come back. "  
  
They look at each other: Dean's face is open into a weird sort of gentle smile that brings out his eyes wrinkles and makes his gaze soft and full of hope.  
  
Cas feels a stab of pain in his heart and thinks that it's really unfair that Dean can still make him feel like that with a simple smile, with a light touch, with the right words...  
  
"Look, I'm not asking you to take us back here, ok? We'll find a place to stay, something to do and if you're really over... me and what was between us... I won't bother you. "  
  
"And what about you? Are you over what happened between us?"  
  
Dean gently touches his hand, sending a shiver along his spine.  
  
"I wouldn't be here if I was. "  
  
"Oh you damn, stupid son of a bitch!"  
  
Cas pulls away from him and gets up, startling the other man, who looks at him with an almost hurt expression in his eyes.  
  
"Do you... do you have any fucking idea how much I've missed you?! I thought I'd never see you again! And I tried so hard to get over you but I just... I just couldn't!"  
  
"Cas... "  
  
"Oh, shut up!"  
  
Cas sits on his lap and kisses him hard, grabbing his neck, pushing him against the couch, crushing him between his own body and the hard fabric of it: Dean moans in the kiss and holds him, sliding his hands across his back, in his hair, on his legs, touching him as much as he can.  
  
And it feels so fucking good to be so close to him, to feel him and have him in his arms again.  
  
"Does this mean you're not over me?"  
  
Cas laughs against his lips, before kissing him again, licking his lips, pressing his own on his face, on his neck while caressing him.  
  
"Shut up, ok? You're... not allowed to talk back. Or leaving. You ain't going nowhere, ok? You're staying here. "  
  
"Oh, trust me, I have no intentions of doing it... "  
  
Dean hugs him tight, buries his face against his shoulder, inhales his scent and laugh.  
  
"I missed you. "  
  
"Yeah, I missed you too. "

 

"You're back. That's a surprise. "  
  
Sam smiles and nods, coming closer to Gabriel who is watching him from his porch, hands in his pockets and a look on his face that is half surprised and half incredibly happy: and it's all in his eyes, in the way they shine when they stop on his face, like they can't believe he's there in front of them.  
  
Gabriel breathes deeply and runs an hand through his hair.  
  
"I hope you went to see Anna the exact moment you set a foot again in this town and that that dick of a brother is with Cas making up to him for leaving in obscene ways, because if it's not so... well, shit is going to get real!"  
  
Sam can't help but laughing out loud.  
  
"Yeah, he should be there. Also, yes, I went to see Anna already of course. Her kid is the most adorable little girl ever. "  
  
A proud smile appears on the man lips, while he lights a cigarette and takes a deep breath from it.  
  
"She really is. But again, good looks run in the family, so it's not a surprise! "  
  
"Anna was really happy about seeing me. I almost feared she was like going to kiss me! I fairly certain her hug almost cracked a couple of my ribs, but it's ok. I was happy about seeing her too. "  
  
They both laugh and Gabriel comes closer and closer, until they're face to face and Sam stares into his eyes, not breaking the eye contact even when the other man puffs smoke in his face.  
  
"You're back. "  
  
"Yes. We are. "  
  
"Here to stay? Or just a courtesy visit before you ride off into the sunset again for new and more exciting adventures?"  
  
Sam stares at him for a moment, without saying anything, looking at the way his face subtly tenses when he says that, like he needs to ask it, to make sure he's not going anywhere again, but that at the same time he's scared about the possible answer.  
  
Gabriel is a strong man, he has the strongest personality and the biggest ego ever, but at the same time has something, many things, broken inside him, that tries to hide in every way.  
  
Maybe to protect the people around him or to shield himself from the world.  
  
"Yes, we are here to stay. "  
  
He nods and Sam catches a little smile of hope crossing his face.  
  
"What happened? I thought you wanted to find that family friend of yours. "  
  
"We did, stayed with him for a while. But... it was just a temporary solution. We need to make our own lives. Find our paths and all that shit. "  
  
"And you think you're going to find it here?"  
  
Sam just shrugs.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Gabriel nods and turns the cigarette off, putting his hands back in his pockets and inhaling deeply: he's not looking at him and his face is sort of tense and nervous, like he's thinking very hard about something that is slowly draining all his energies.  
  
The man in front of him rubs his eyes and looks suddenly tired.  
  
"Well, I guess you know what it's good for you... "  
  
"You don't think this is?"  
  
"I think you are old enough to figure out on your own. "  
  
Sam licks his lips and looks at his feet, scratching the back of his head and trying to find something to say.  
  
"I mean... when I think of starting a new life or putting it back together, I surely do not picture this place. "  
  
"It's not the place, Gabriel. It's... you. All of you. You're the closest thing to a family we ever had since... a long time ago. Yeah, this town is not the place I'd choose for a fresh start either, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter one single bit. Dean missed Cas really bad. And... "  
  
"And?"  
  
Sam laugh nervously, his eyes locked into Gabriel's, smiling at him and feeling oddly pleased and happy with himself when the man returns the smile and seems to relax.  
  
"And I kinda missed you, our talks, hanging around with you... I missed it. "  
  
Gabriel comes closer and puts an hand on his shoulder and Sam stays still, doesn't pulls away or gives into the touch, just remains there, looking at him.  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yeah... I know it may sound weird, but... I think it was what I missed the most. You know, you're not easy to deal with: you can be a real asshole when you want, you obviously are not a fan of my brother and are generally a son of a bitch. But you're more than that, I know it.  
  
There's so much of you that people don't see, you're so good at hiding that you almost fooled me too. But I know you're better than people think you are, that you're a good person that cares about other, maybe even more than you care about yourself.  
  
And... just want to know you better, to see the real you behind this... mask you created to protect yourself. "  
  
Sam takes a deep breath after that, feelings lighter and pleased with himself for managing to say what he wanted to say just like he imagined to.  
  
"What if you don't like the real me? What if I just end up... disappointing you?"  
  
Gabriel looks touched by his words and his voice comes out thin and shaky, like saying that requires a big effort.  
  
Sam smiles again.  
  
"You should let me decide that, maybe?"  
  
After long seconds of indecision, Gabriel smiles back and gently squeezes his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah... I should.  
  
The way his face lights up makes Gabriel laugh softly.  
  
"So, you wanna come inside? Grab some coffee?"  
  
"Yeah, I'd love that."  
  
They start going inside, but then Gabriel stops for a moment, turns around and gently kisses him on the lips: it's quick and the kiss is nothing more that a soft pressure, but it's enough to send a light shiver along his back.  
  
"Welcome back, Sam. "  
  
Sam laugh.  
  
"Thank you, Gabriel. "

 

Dean sighs against the skin of Cas's collarbone, pressing more and more kisses there, feelings him moving under him, his hands caressing his hair and his back with a fain hint of nails.  
  
They're in bed, buried under the covers, naked and sweaty after the sex: Cas licks his neck and when Dean pulls away to look better at him, he kisses him hard, like he doesn't want to let him even for a second.  
  
"God dammit, I can't believe I went by almost a whole year without you... Missed you so fucking bad, Cas... "  
  
Their bodies are entangled together in a tight and almost desperate hug that seems to express all the need they feel for each other.  
  
"I missed you too, really missed you... never do that to me again, clear?"  
  
"Never, never... "  
  
They stay there, kissing and touching for a while, then Dean rolls on his back and Cas lays down on top of him, caressing his chest.  
  
"You know, I didn't... mean never like... really never... I just... "  
  
Dean laugh and then silences him with a kiss.  
  
"I get it, I get it. It's fine, Cas. "  
  
"So... what you gonna do now?"  
  
Cas's fingers dance on his skin creating weird patterns of confused lines: Dean looks at him for a while in silence, just exploring his face with his eyes.  
  
"I don't know and right now I don't really care. Hell, my life is a fucking mess, like it's really so full of shit I don't even know where to start to put the pieces back together. But I'm gonna try. I think I deserve something good from God or the karma or whatever. "  
  
"You do. "  
  
Dean rolls on his side and presses his forehead against Cas's, kisses him again, enjoying that contact that he missed more than everything else, the feeling of their bodies touching like this, healing each other's wounds and making everything look a little bit better, giving them a small chance of hope for the future.  
  
Cas's smile is beautiful and warm and so are the caresses he gives him.  
  
"I guess we'll just find out what's gonna be of us together... "  
  
They stare at each other, saying with their eyes more than their mouths do; then Cas takes his hand in his and holds it.  
  
"Yeah... I guess we will. "

**the end**


End file.
